


Moving Mountains | 搬山

by lalunaticscribe



Series: A Land Within the Four Seas [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ancient China, Ancient China AU, Chinese Mythology - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gender Identity, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Multi, Other, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Romance, Shameless, Shameless Love, Slash, Spanking, World Conquest?, Wuxia tropes, cultivation, supernatural powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-13 14:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12986385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe
Summary: Huang Jin could only remember that, since his birth, the only thing in his mind was the picture of a red string. This stubborn determination, enough to move mountains, led him to pursue cultivation towards Immortality, in the hopes of untying his attachments to the mortal world.His pursuit of the Way led him to clash against the leader of the cultivation world's unorthodox faction, the Immortal Hong Yuexia. Seeing the red string tying his fate to this immortal existence, a determination to move the implacable obstacle of time awoke in his chest.Perhaps, it was already there to begin with.A fool he might be, but Huang Jin was determined to be the fool who wins the beauty and the world in the end.___Ancient China setting, alternate universe, cultivation to immortality as the setting. Main pair is technically BL, but contains other themes like gender identity in relation to social identification.





	1. 开幕: Unorthodoxy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All Under Heaven | 普天之下](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12618132) by [lalunaticscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe). 



Everything started from the day that such an announcement was scattered across the land within the Four Seas. With the might of imperial pertinence, the cultivators of the world stood and stared in shock in the face of this direct slap in the face. This insult to the orthodoxy of the world came in the form of this war declaration:

> _In a world where all of the ten thousand things possess a spiritual nature, all living things with some sentience will often reach one conclusion:_
> 
> _The Unorthodox side is everything that is not Orthodox._
> 
> _This is a long-established rule around the whole country, amidst the rivers and lakes of the pugilists who could not leave the fragile territory of mundanity._
> 
> _This is also understood amongst the cliffs and peaks, where cultivators who have surpassed their mundane limits to achieve the supernatural sought to reach the ultimate end of every path:_
> 
> _Starting from Qi Condensation,_
> 
> _Foundation Establishment following this stage,_
> 
> _and a Core Formation,_
> 
> _where a Nascent Soul is formed,_
> 
> _Which would achieve Apotheosis._
> 
> _The end of every path of the Dao thus theoretically ends in Ascension to the heavens._
> 
> _Of course, the orthodox sects preach that only one cultivation method exists._
> 
> _However, the saying of ‘three hundred and sixty ways’ encompasses all walks of life. One of these sayings must therefore be wrong – and it is the former._
> 
> _The Great Alliance led by the CangSong and CuiBai sects have imposed their word, as if writ in the laws of the heavens that the paths of cultivation are opened only to certain walks of life._
> 
> _But no more!_
> 
> _I, Hong Yuan, courtesy name of Yuexia, have taken my stance against the thieves of the CangSong and CuiBai Sects. We of the JieJue Sect_ 【 **结绝教** 】 _, hereby proclaim our separation from the Great Alliance. We have formed a new alliance with the BaiYi, BiShui, and CangMang Sects, to fight against the orthodoxy championed by the thieves Song and Bai, along with their families._
> 
> _This new alliance is helmed by none other than myself._
> 
> _All of you cowards and vultures who coop yourselves up at your mountains and cower under the shades of your grand forests, prepare yourselves to be handled as written in the laws and ordinances of the heavens!_
> 
> _Flourish, the people suffer! Perish, the people suffer!_

* * *

“This Hong Yuexia has overstretched himself!”

From the most prominent sects to the smallest family clans, even some prominent unaligned cultivators, everyone in the cultivation world was discussing the new Villains’ Alliance headed by the JieJue Sect. The Twin Trees which was the nickname of the Alliance’s leaders were not an exception.

As for why it was called the Villains’ Alliance, it was because such an alliance was akin to taking on the whole of the country’s cultivators. Such an act was against the majority, against the order of civilisation. Whether right or wrong, it was already enough to win the title of villain once someone goes against the will of the Great Alliance.

Song Rong, the fifty-something leader of the Great Alliance, gave a snort. He tossed aside the war declaration that had been retrieved from the outpost nearest to the great city of SongBai where the Alliance ruled over. With a flick of his sleeve, the paper was set alight by some unseen means.

It did not burn, its contents still mocking him from within his sight.

Another flick of the wide sleeves of his robes sent it out of his sight, and his heart was calmed forcibly. “My able Brother Bai,” he sighed in answer to the speaker. “is this the first time that Hong Yuexia has tormented our Alliance? We can only blame ourselves for not having killed that tailor when we had the chance, and by the time we realised it… that tailor beat us all to Apotheosis.”

“Even an Immortal must have a weakness!” the leader of the CuiBai Sect, Bai Lin, protested. “Our Grant Alliance must smash these unorthodox devils now!”

“It is certainly not simple! The BaiYi Sect’s YuFu- _Jun_ , the BiShui Sect’s GaoXuan- _Zhenren,_ even the CangMang Sect’s Northern Beauty has chosen the banner of Hong Yuexia. These four were part of the Five Stars who were once our Alliance’s greatest cultivators!” Song Rong argued. “They might have dissolved after DaiYuePiXing-Zun died, but their merits and reputation speak for themselves! Clearly, Hong Yuexia is gathering them again to fulfil his mad ambitions!”

Every esteemed cultivator at this meeting to handle this new threat was in great agreement. Their generation’s only Immortal so far was a wild card, a maverick about to launch the cultivation world into war, and somehow gathering his past comrades to do so. The elephant in the room that nobody dared to address, though, was that one of the Five Stars, titled as ‘the one who wears the stars and moon’, was already dead, and has been dead for fifty years.

The Five Stars were already incomplete.

It was not as if an Immortal, for all of his power and ability to turn the world upside down, could do anything about someone who had died fifty years back. Fifty years was a blink of an eye for cultivators who could live for centuries without noticing any change to their bodies or souls, for they had no attachment to the mundane world or all the things of the physical world which could be blown into dust at any moment. Even if Hong Yuexia could bring back the dead... why would he?


	2. 第一章：Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: all names are written in the Chinese style of surname first, followed by first name. Some characters have an additional courtesy name (字), also known as a style name, which is a name bestowed upon one at adulthood in addition to one's given name.
> 
> \- LLS

#  第一章：Force

 

* * *

In the land within the Four Seas, there was a city named SongBai. It stood by the northern shore of the River Passing Through Heaven which bisected the land.

As the stronghold of the strongest Alliance sects, SongBai was also standing in direct opposition to the neighbouring rival city of FeiChang. Bracketed by mountains on all sides save the one facing the river, it could be said that SongBai was easy to defend except from an attack from across the river. For this reason, FeiChang was an important strategic point that the CangSong and CuiBai Sects, but the expedition force that the Alliance had sent out had reached a deadlock bare days after setting out by ship to ford the river.

“The WuXing!” The appointed expedition captain Zhang Lang finally pronounced the name of their enemy – the alliance of unorthodox sects and rogues which stood in direct opposition of the Great Alliance, helmed by the four monsters who had turned their backs on the cultivation world’s orthodoxy.

Amidst the tall masts from which shuttered sails hung, the glow of flying swords upon which their owners sat floated in the sky. As Captain Zhang looked up, one of the flying cultivators unleashed something from his hands, and a red flame shot across the vault of heaven.

Murmurs rose across the towered ships and smaller warships that the Great Alliance had built for this force. The morale of the troops was dropping, and the rammed-earth walls which surrounded the port harbour of FeiChang now loomed with an unforeseen menace.

From the walls, a single flag danced in the wind – red surrounded by a gold border, and a single, brilliant character:

紅

“Hong Yuexia is in the city?!”

“Calm down!” the captain hollered. “What is the JieJue Grandmaster but one man?! No matter how high his cultivation, are we not all cultivators too?! This man has sullied himself with the matters of the mundane world by occupying this city of FeiChang! Do not forget, FeiChang is like our home of SongBai – surrounded by mountains on all sides but this port! Now they have not even a ship in the waters of the river, and we are already at their doorstep! Kill the villains!”

Cheers and roars answered him.

One cultivator atop his flying sword descended onto the deck of the towered ship which was the captain’s flagship. “Captain! There’s a red umbrella on the battlements!”

“The heavens are helping us! Hong Yuexia is at the gates!” Zhang Lang cheered.

Under a red oil-paper umbrella, one of the two standing under its canopy yawned lightly. This individual was dressed in a red tunic. The tunic resembled a dress, complete with the cross-collar, wide sleeves and wide belt for the young scholar-gentry. However, were a normal human to see the clothes of this fair-skinned man who was playing cat’s cradle with a red loop of string, they would not be able to specify this man’s exact social status, the occasion which merited him to be wearing the red of celebration, or his exact purpose – except that he could not be human.

After all, everyone knew that only one individual in this world could produce the Dress of the Heavens, which was made distinct by the lack of seams within.1

“Grandmaster Hong,” the one holding the umbrella’s pole lowered his head with the respect of a devotee to his god. “The Great Alliance has moved to take FeiChang.”

“Shahua, has the port been cleared?”

“The port regulars have taken heed to your kind warning about the storm to come,” the uncertain maid Shahua replied. “None of our forces are on the river. Should those Alliance dogs advance in and occupy the port… Should Grandmaster start preparing to evacuate?”

“Shahua,” Hong Yuexia murmured, without a change to his expression. “There is a saying: ‘fortune is as unpredictable as the weather’.”2

Shahua glanced out to the burning hot sun. “Replying to Grandmaster… I think this weather is very predictable.”

“Come now,” Hong Yuexia pulled a pair of asymmetrical scissors from his belt, pulling the tangled loop in his hands between the blades. “All things are connected by the strings of fate. Therefore, those who control the strings...”

The blades sheared through the yarn, and the red loop of thread dissolved into thin air.

“...control fate itself.”

Across the River Passing Through Heaven, the Alliance fleet and hovering forces started to panic as dark clouds rolled across the skies. Flashes of red and light crossed the felt canopy of clouds and mists. The river waters underneath their boats churned as the winds of the storm caressed the waves, a waterborne abyss coming alive under their keels. Wind and water combined in a cycle flowing upwards and downwards, and cultivators were tossed about between these titanic forces of nature that had just acted up by coincidence to destroy their fleet.

Looping another string of vermilion around his nimble fingers, Hong Yuexia continued to wrap and bind the string around itself in some knotting whose esoteric meaning only he, and others on his level, could comprehend.

Master and servant watched from their movable shelter as the waterspout began to creak and move northwards, in time to the pulling and knotting of Hong Yuexia’s fingers. A hum, and the waterspout only grew larger in the distance as Hong Yuexia snapped the yarn with both hands.

The umbrella pole began to shake.

“Shahua.” His head did not turn around. “The umbrella.”

“Y- Yes!” The servant girl frantically straightened her back. “Grandmaster Hong… you just beat them back like that… and that storm is headed for SongBai, isn’t it? But why did Grandmaster have to move personally?”

At this question, Hong Yuexia only fluttered the eyelids which covered eyes that lighted up like green jade. “Fording this river needs luck. If I have all the luck, how will those idiots come and fight us? As for why...of course it is to scare them.”

“That’s right… that pair of rotten woods know that they can’t beat Grandmaster Hong in a straight fight, so they’re trying to stop us from approaching at all…” A thought crossed Shahua’s face.

“Grandmaster… their defences can’t stop the weather.”

“Precisely.” A delicate hand reached out. “Give me the umbrella. I’m going out for a walk.”

Shahua obediently handed over the item as instructed. “I will arrange for an escort-”

“No need.” A light tap of wooden soles against the tiled floors atop the battlements of the FeiChang city walls, and Hong Yuexia’s whole body floated in the sky with the surety of a crane standing in a lake. “To borrow your words, Shahua, can those rotten woods actually match me?”

* * *

At the foot of Mt Cangqiong on the outskirts of the city of SongBai, Huang Jin had just seen a red string stretch towards the horizon. He raised his hand towards it, as if it would drop from the sky and fall into his hand, and then...

“Huang- _xiong_ , what’s going on with you? Huang- _xiong_!”

Huang Jin snapped out from a daydream. “Eh?”

“Are you daydreaming about a pretty girl?!” the young speaker, Su Li, eagerly asked him. “Is Huang- _xiong_ finally going to get married?”

“Ridiculous.” Huang Jin stood up next to the wooden table of the shack that was the house he lived in. “What time is it?”

“The hour of the goat (3pm to 5pm),” Su Li tittered. “Why?”

“Need to deliver firewood to Granny Meng before school.”

“Granny Meng? The old pharmacy granny on the way to school?” Su Li clarified. “As a student of the CuiBai sect, you’re working so hard already, and you’re still delivering firewood to Granny Meng? You’re a workaholic, you are.”

“Better than being a dissolute man like you.”

Su Li had been there ever since Huang Jin’s parents died. The young man had mysteriously appeared on the doorstep with all the ritual implements needed for a respectable funeral, citing a past acquaintance with the late Huang couple and thus paying for all the funeral fees despite Huang Jin’s strident protests. Dressed in a full set of white clothes – tunic, underclothes, boots – Su Li resembled an urban gentleman prone to frequenting tea parlours and scholars’ gatherings than at the foot of Mt Cangqiong with the poor Huang Jin.

However, Huang Jin had never seen Su Li do anything other than loiter around his house and leech off of his food budget like an infestation – not even enter the city to sell some of the ink-brush paintings that Huang Jin had seen Su Li do in a fit of artistic frenzy. The artistic frenzy came with stripping off his clothes and painting sky-clad. Given his eccentricities, Huang Jin was more inclined to believe that Su Li was currently leeching off of him to dodge an arrest warrant for public indecency, than Su Li’s claim of exposing himself wholly to his artistic endeavour.

Having tied up several faggots of firewood to strap across his back, a solemn boulder of a man wearing the hemp and ramie uniform of the CuiBai sect thus left home to ford across Mt Cangqiong. Thunder cracked overhead; Huang Jin hiked faster.

By the usual standards of society, there was definitely nothing classically handsome – his hands were rough, his muscles hard and the edges of his face as severe as the sheer edge of a granite cliff. Huang Jin seemed like a labourer more than the fair-skinned scholar-gentry who were always the talk of the town, despite probably having read more books in the CuiBai sect library than all of them put together. Granny Meng had even said so: “You’d think that he looks dumb, but there’s a light in his eyes like polished jade and a fire under the stone and earth.”

The fire burned to find that elusive scarlet amidst the colourless skein of life. It eluded him in his youth, it tormented him in his pursuit of cultivation, and now, when he had newly established his Foundation to start forming a Golden Core, it was coming again.

Huang Jin did not quite understand why the streak of red trailing across the horizon seemed to attract him so much. He was only a poor student who had to cross over Mt Cangqiong to reach the CuiBai sect building every morning. There was, honestly, nothing special about him apart from his stubbornness to go such a long way of the mountain, like he was moving between two points regardless of the obstacles between them… Surely, climbing a mountain like Mt Cangqiong could not be so special.

At the other side of Mt Cangqiong was a small tavern – trestle tables opened to the sky, and one side was a roofed cooking area and a storage area for vats of miscellaneous necessities and seasonings which were essential to the business.

“Oh?” the proprietor noted as Huang Jin sat down. “Your usual?”

“Three rice dumplings with different filings, to take away.” Huang Zhenggang confirmed. “Is my tab…?”

“Don’t worry, customer, there’s still some of your money on our side.”

Nodding, Huang Jin sat at an empty bench to wait.

Due to the threat of rain and storms, the only customer present was a man in – and here Huang Jin had to wipe his eyes – bright red clothes.

The land between the four seas was still a land of strict social hierarchy. Yellow was the colour which symbolised the imperial rank, followed by the other four colours of red, black, grue3 and white in descending order. Depending on the presiding dynasty’s virtue of elements, other colours might even be elevated to the same rank as yellow. Red was a colour of joy, happiness, and marriage. Since there was no wedding procession and no bridal palanquin in sight, this man here was certainly not an escaped bridegroom. Under the darkening skies, his whole body of red stood out like a sore thumb.

The uniforms of the various cultivator sects did not usually follow the rank of colours, but the CuiBai sect that Huang Jin was studying under had a uniform of white, with only the hems coloured to show the wearer’s rank in the CuiBai school. It was therefore with one look that the man clothed in red could already say: “An outside disciple of the CuiBai Sect?”

Huang Zhenggang contemplated the white hems of his clothes and the cypress emblem on his right lapel. His order was not done yet. “This one is a student of Bai Wenchang; named Jin, with the surname of Huang. No courtesy name.”

“Waiter, your oldest Shaoxing,” the man in red immediately ordered. “Fate has brought us together for one meeting, it should be celebrated.”

“I am but a disciple from outside the Bai family,” Huang Jin demurred. “I do not even live within SongBai – I live on the other side of Mt Cangqiong. May I ask for your honoured surname and great name?”

“Nothing so great as that, Sir Huang,” the slender man in red gave a coquettish laugh as he rose to take a seat opposite Huang Jin, two drinking bowls in one hand and a small sealed vat in the other. “This one is surnamed Hong. The heavens are my father and the earth my mother – I do not know if I have siblings at all. So I named myself Yuan, betting that my fate was to live.”

“What a surprise,” Huang Jin spoke unwittingly, accepting the bowl proffered to him as it was put on the table. “We are both alone in the world then. It must be some fate which has brought us to meet.”

His opinion towards this man in red surnamed Hong increased further as the man unsealed the vat before his eyes and poured two bowls clearly, without any subterfuge or cheating. Huang Jin took the bowl in front of the man in red and drank. “Excellent choice of wine.”

“I thought so too.” The man in red sipped his wine. “My favourite is osmanthus wine, but it is not the Mid-Autumn Festival. This is a good enough substitute. Have you tried the city’s famous taverns?”

“The prices in SongBai are too high for a poor student like me. Were it not for my labour with Granny Meng’s pharmacy, I fear that I would not even be given a chance at the CuiBai Sect.”

“Then I do not think that you will ever get the chance to enter the inner circle of the CuiBai sect.” The man in red leaned closer over the table, giving Huang Jin a clear view of his collarbone. Huang Jin was however more occupied with the light of the man’s eyes, whose arresting luminance demanded his entire attention. “I like your face, Sir Huang, so I will tell you directly. The Great Alliance roused the WuXing in FeiChang, and their entire fleet was sunk to the bottom of the river. The city of SongBai will not survive today if the JieJue Grandmaster has anything to say about it.”

* * *

**1 This is referring to the Chinese idiom  天衣无缝, which refers to something being figuratively flawless. Literally, it means ‘heaven’s clothes are without seams’.**

**2  天有不测风云**

**3 Chinese Five Elements theory associate Wood with both green and blue, because  青 can refer to both colours in Old Chinese. Modern Chinese uses 蓝 for blue and 绿 for green nowadays, with 青 being classified as green-blue, AKA grue.**


	3. 第二章：Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You...” slurred the JieJue Grandmaster. “Are you… putting me on your bed…? Hahaha...”

#  第二章：Field

The first thing that Huang Jin did was pay all of the meagre monies on him to the proprietor to keep supplying alcohol to Hong Yuan, the man in red. The aged Shaoxing already on the table was quickly plied, and then Huang Jin added another large jar of yellow wine as well as glutinous rice wine.

“You’re so forward, Sir Huang.” A red flush to match the equally carmine robes he wore crossed the man’s cheeks as he leant his head back, barely remaining on his bench. “Perhaps... you’re not only a drinker… but also a lecher?”

“Sir Hong has spoken wrongly,” Huang Jin looked away as Hong Yuan started to undo his belt. “Please, keep your wits about you.”

“Don’t- worry-” Hong Yuan gave a series of hiccoughs. “I- strip _all_ the time…”

“Boss, one room for my friend to sleep off the wine,” Huang Jin told the dumbstruck proprietor by the side. “Please ensure his safety.”

“Sir Huang?” the boss blinked, “Your friend?”

“Please make sure he’s safe,” Huang Jin repeated. “Were anything to happen to him, the CuiBai sect would indeed pursue all avenues of investigation without rest.”

Not to mention, if this man was indeed… but how could that be? Huang Jin reasoned, the leader of a sect as powerful as the JieJue Sect must have bodyguards when he goes out, no matter how good his own skills or cultivation. Hong Yuan must be insane if he was indeed the Grandmaster of the JieJue Sect.

Arms as white as soft jade wrapped around his neck, and a drunken smile graced the man in red’s face as he pushed his head towards Huang Jin. Already, half his robes were barely hanging onto his admittedly slender body, exposing the embroidered silk _dudou_ with mandarin ducks under the scarlet. The weight resting on Huang Jin forced Huang Jin to pull the man in red up by his waist.

“You...” slurred the JieJue Grandmaster. “Are you… putting me on your bed…? Hahaha...”

Absently, Huang Jin noted that the man’s hips were excellent to hold. “Elder must act respectably in public. I will put you to rest now.”

“You’re…. so nice...” Those jade chips warmed, and eyelashes flickered down as Huang Jin hauled the man in red with one arm into the room prepared by the proprietor and tossed him onto the futon laid out. “No… clothes...”

Lips thinning, Huang Jin pulled the lapels of the red robes shut and tied the belt even tighter with a dead knot. The rough ramie blankets were then employed to wrap Hong Yuan up entirely in dead knots. Huang Jin thought some more, and then went to his carefully patchworked Qiankun bag on his back to extract two sets of deity-binding nets to drape over him.

“Sleep. For two days, preferably. I’ll roast a pheasant for you,” Huang Jin added, and then frowned. “If we meet again.”

“If we meet again… you’ll roast a chicken for me?”

“Sleep first.” Huang Jin closed the door behind him and started running for the city of SongBai, for once cursing his lack of a personal weapon to fly with.

The red flush died from Hong Yuan’s cheeks, and the knots in the deity-binding nets and the rough blankets began to undo themselves on a silent command. “That one is rather alert. He must’ve burned through all of his food allowance. I’ll just give him however much time he’s paid for me… hahaha, when did I turn out to be selling my body… for this feeling...”

* * *

Su Li walked into the city of SongBai. As was his custom, he paid the entry toll to the guards dressed in the black and green robes of the CangSong sect, and then went down the main street before ducking west towards the Meng Pharmacy. As for why Huang Jin never saw him at all, Su Li wore a disguise when he entered the city.

The pharmacy carried the dense and dusty smell of dried herbs that Su Li could smell from ten streets away. Bunches of herbs and dried animal parts hung suspended from the ceiling, as well as long cabinets of solid wood-panel drawers upon which their metal handles shone with the sheen of polished bronze. The shop’s proprietor was hunched behind the long counter at the back of the shop, staring down into something at the counter surface.

Su Li rolled his eyes at the heavens before he entered, closing the pharmacy’s main doors behind him to stride towards the counter, his footsteps falling like meteors.

There was a bell suspended on a support, which Su Li swung to ring in the old lady’s face. “Oi! Why are you looking at that?!”

The old lady jumped in her chair. “Y- You-!”

“Me! Your husband!” Su Li scolded. “Madam Qing, Aunty Qing, take it that I’m begging you – if you don’t learn to keep your impulses down, you’re going to be discovered!”

The old lady stood up and tore her face off. The mask drifted to the counter and turned into white Xuan paper and ink scribbles, revealing a face which could fell a city with its beauty. “So you say! Su Li Su Chenglong, how long has it been since you came here?! I almost though you went to drink the south wind!”1

“Isn’t the expression ‘drink the north-west wind’?”2

Qing Cangcui snorted back, the expression charming enough for a thousand paintings and yet done without artifice. “Huang Zhenggang won’t change because he drank my Soup of Oblivion. If that guy can bear to feed our gluttonous Grandmaster, he’ll feed and clothe you.”

“You’re the one paying him for extra firewood,” Su Li shot back, before reaching behind the counter to the smaller table and picking up the circular bronze mirror. “So, what did Shuijing say?”

“I thought you said I was giving in to my impulses?” Qing Cangcui retorted.

“Remember when you were playing Liubo against Yuexia via magic-mirror, and Shuijing caught you?” Su Li stared back at his wife.

She deflated. “That was… a practice test...”

“And then remember what we did with our own set last-”

“Fine, I’m impulsive and you enable me every time,” Qing Cangcui quickly interrupted, turning the mirror surface over to show a column of characters written in ink.

“Yuexia… left FeiChang? For _here_?” Su Li read the words again. “Exactly how much does he want to kill the rotten woods?”

“The enmity for killing our comrade makes them enemies who can’t live under the same skies,” Qing Cangcui contemplated. “Even if… ah. Looks like we should leave the city. If Grandmaster Hong uses the weather to attack, we won’t be able to escape in time.”

“Both rotten woods are in this city.” Su Li’s lips thinned. “You and I know Yuexia’s nature.”

“Fortune is as unpredictable as the weather,” Qing Cangcui reminded him. “Grandmaster Hong changes his mind like the weather condition on the River Passing Through Heaven.”

“Flourish, the people suffer. Perish, the people suffer.” Su Li rebutted. “No matter how many times Hong Yuexia changes his mind or the weather changes its form, my dear, the outcome always remains the same – people die if they defy the laws of this world.”

“You say it as if he is no longer human,” Qing Cangcui reflected. “Although… it sometimes does feel like that.”

* * *

The entire city of SongBai crossed two hills and several plains, the two hills being the namesake of the sects that occupied them. To the east of the city was the CangSong Hill where the CangSong sect headquarters and main household stood, and the west hill was CuiBai Hill with its sect’s home base. To reinforce the friendship between the two sects, a long gallery had been built down the sides of both hills to meet in the valley between the two hills, and both open galleries met at the palatial ZhongWu Hall.

“The whole fleet is gone?!”

Bai Lin’s anger caused the messenger to kneel and prostrate himself. “Y- Your subordinate personally saw it! Captain Zhang risked his life to save your subordinate from that river waterspout… the entire fleet was sunk in an instant! A- And… Captain Zhang’s last words...”

Bai Lin rose from his chair in anger. “What kind of moment is it to mention last words? Speak!”

“T- The JieJue Grandmaster is in FeiChang!”

Having spoken not a word since the urgent message came in, Song Rong broke the cup in his hands. “This is the most urgent news which you should have spoken first! Blockhead!”

“It is this subordinate’s mistake! May Sect Leader cease your anger!”

Song Rong made a grand wave with his arms, catching the indoor candlelight with the embroidered purple hem of his silk robes. “This old man has no time to be angry! Hong Yuexia is going to come at any moment! Go and tell the gate guards to be on the lookout! All forces are to man the walls and all spaces above and below the walls!” He kicked out. “What are you lingering about for?!”

“Yes!” The messenger rolled with the kick, scrambling over the high threshold of the ZhongWu Hall’s ornate doors.

An equally incensed Bai Lin sank back into one of the two chairs at the centre back of the Hall, reaching for the side table upon which his own teacup rested. He took a drink, made a face, and snapped his fingers to one Song family servant at the side.

“Bring wine.”

“Yes, Sect Leader Bai.” The servant scurried away.

“...Dongyu.” Bai Lin used Song Rong’s courtesy name. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

“Don’t say that, my able brother Sangyu!” Song Rong responded with Bai Lin’s own courtesy name. “Even if the whole JieJue Sect amassed in FeiChang tries to ford the river, we can beat them back!”

At this, Bai Lin gave his sworn brother a hard look. “Fifty years ago, the great tournament semi-final round was won by Hong Yuexia.”

At this reminder, Song Rong turned red with barely suppressed anger.

Everyone knew that Hong Yuexia was a tailor by trade. He cultivated by trade, and stitched his way into the cultivation world by the Path of needle and thread. As the _Dao De Jing_ goes, ‘the Dao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Dao’. 3 There were many people who made a living by trade and thus advanced to cultivate via that same trade. In this, Hong Yuexia was not exceptional.

The way that he entered the grand stage of history, though, was by cultivating all the way towards the end of the chosen Path – Apotheosis. By cultivating into the purest existence by which not even death and time could touch, the JieJue Grandmaster became the penultimate existence of possibility in the current cultivation world: a god descended to earth, with the power to command the winds and rains, controlling the very course of events for all things in the world.

Of course, the symbols of his power – thread – never left. Likewise, the ability to draw power through the Red Strings of Fate became the symbol of Hong Yuexia, which the mundane world proclaimed as the ‘Elder Under the Moon’. Furthermore, his power grew to the point that a fair fight with Hong Yuexia could only be done while the latter was naked.

In the great tournament fifty years ago, the semi-final round was opened by the sight of Hong Yuexia stripping to his under-trousers and a _dudou_ halter-top belly wrap. The ensuing silence only made the sounds of Hong Yuexia beating his opponent into the stone ground much louder in that arena. Being bored, Hong Yuexia thus left the arena and was disqualified as a result, but the resulting loss of face forced his opponent to resign as well.

That opponent was Song Rong, courtesy name of Dongyu, the current head of the Song family and Sect Leader of the CangSong Sect, which stood at the pinnacle of the Great Alliance of Orthodox Sects.

“We should have killed him when the tailor was still a tailor,” Song Rong grumbled. “Damn that tailor!”

“Hong Yuexia broke ten of your bones by accident then, Brother Song, when he had no grievance with you,” Bai Lin continued. “Now, he has a grievance with us for killing his cultivation partner, and we are enemies who cannot live under the same sky.”

“REPORT!” A family servant ran into the room and bowed. “Sect Leader Bai, an outside disciple of your esteemed faction begs to see you. He claims to carry news about the JieJue Grandmaster...”

“Send him in!” Bai Lin ordered.

The white-clad disciple came in and saluted. “Disciple Huang Jin greets the Sect Leader, Sect Leader Song.”

Bai Lin jabbed a finger in his direction. “Tell us what you know.”

“There’s a man in red clothes without seams at the tavern by the foot of Mt Cangqiong,” Huang Jin reported without any change in his talking speed. “This disciple struck up a conversation with him with a jar of Shaoxing wine on my way to the sect headquarters from home. Upon hearing his news about the sunken fleet, this disciple plied alcohol on him and then… detained him at the tavern in a drunken stupor.”

Bai Lin did not question this pastry which fell from the heavens. “Finally, one of our disciples did something right. Evacuate the city!”

* * *

**1  南 ‘south’ is a homonym of 男 ‘male’, so 南风 also refers to homosexuality.**

**2  喝西北风 is a Chinese idiom for being cold and hungry.**

**3  道可道，非常道**


	4. 第三章：Sprouting

# 第三章：Sprouting

Two days later, back in her disguise as Granny Meng, Qing Cangcui stood outside her pharmacy, absently sweeping the packed-earth ground outside of the Meng Pharmacy. It was not pottering around; the Meng Pharmacy stood within view of the south wall of the SongBai city walls, where the main city gates and the main battlements were.

“...” Her eyes widened as packs of students, a mass of white and the celadon of the CangSong Sect, were leaving the city in an orderly manner. Peering up to the skies, scores of swords, each glowing with the spiritual energy of their wielders, levitated into the air with the lightness of a flock of cranes rising towards the firmament.

“Excuse me, boy,” Qing Cangcui made her voice gravelly as she asked a young man with clean features clad in the celadon of the CangSong Sect’s inner disciples, but with the yellow hems of his undergarments peeking out. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, Old Madam,” the young man replied. “Sect Leader ordered the main body of students to evacuate the city for Mt Cangtian. Ah, Young Master Huang!”

“Huang Jin?” A bundle of dried sticks were placed at the front of the Meng Pharmacy when she turned around.

Huang Jin solemnly made a bow towards the old lady. “Granny Meng. Please remain within the space of your shop during this time. Should the JieJue sect come… soldiers are always in need of medicine, so they should not trouble you. My apologies for not being able to tell you beforehand.”

“All of you are going?” Qing Cangcui repeated.

“The JieJue Grandmaster himself is on his way to destroy the CangSong and CuiBai Sects,” the first man elaborated. “The citizens of SongBai itself should be safe… hopefully...”

Huang Jin’s eyebrows rose, and he turned to face the CangSong disciple. “Song Tong, what do you mean?!”

Song Tong, the disciple from the CangSong Sect, scoffed openly back. “What’s with that tone? I am the formal son of the Sect Leader!”

“Ah!” Qing Cangcui deliberately looked up to the battlements. “Isn’t that the eldest Miss Song?”

Song Tong’s back snapped straight, and he looked up to see the looming shadow of Song Qi standing on the battlements. The shadow’s leg cocked, and then it leapt up into the sky. Like a falling star or a floating snowflake, the shadow grew to a body wrapped in celadon, exposing the gold silk hem of her under-robe as she flew across the space between the city battlements above and the street below.

When he spoke, his voice trembled. “Big Sis- ah!”

The shout of pain came from when his skull impacted onto the ground. As for the cause of Song Tong falling to the ground, the cracking of Song Qi’s fingers on her right hand made the cause very clear.

“A’ Tong,” her voice was pitched low, even lower than the famously heavy voice of the eldest formal daughter of Song Rong. “I have told you before. If you cannot speak a single civilised word, _don’t talk at all_.”

So saying, Song Qi then made a salute towards the disguised Qing Cangcui. “May this old madam forgive my younger brother. He is ill-mannered and has not realised the ways of the world.”

Qing Cangcui quickly studied the Song eldest daughter’s coil of long, thick black hair, held with two hairpins, one of silver and one of jade. Her eyes fell down to the cross-collar of gold silk and celadon cotton, and then examined the rest of her clothes by sight to stop at the pine emblem pin on her right lapel. “Ah, Miss Song is going to inherit the leadership of the sect? What a relief!”

“...”

Song Tong flushed and looked away. As the eldest son of Song Rong’s formal wife, he should have had the priority of inheritance were he born in a noble family. Unfortunately, the cultivator world’s focus on ability over blood status had pushed him out of the inheritance struggle, in favour of his more talented elder sister. The failure of his expectations and his new role as subject to his elder sister’s orders was still a bitter pill to swallow.

“My honourable father is still alive, madam.” Song Qi’s reply was mild but cautious as the fingers of her left hand traced the pine emblem. “It might change if someone could wear the Mulberry Robe.”

“I’m very happy for Big Sister to succeed our father’s work!” Song Tong quickly added, his head ducking so low that he almost hid in his robes. “Only Big Sister has the ability to lead the CangSong Sect to new heights and unite the cultivation world at last!”

“A’ Tong does not know enough of the world,” Song Qi finally spoke, but her eyes remained fixed above on the skies. “We are now leaving Uncle Bai to delay this threat. If only-”

“Sister!” Song Tong quickly interrupted. “We have to evacuate everyone! The one surnamed Huang, quit malingering and get back to work!”

Huang Jin quickly turned about. “Well, Granny Meng, I have to...” he blinked, and looked about.

On the battlements, Qing Cangcui tore off her mask and waved her sleeve. At the same time that ten bamboo canisters fell out from her sleeve to roll across the south wall’s battlements, a war flag erected itself above the wall with another wave of her willowy arms.

靑

A high feminine voice began to sing:

“ _A beauty in the north..._ ”

“The Northern Beauty!” The combined student-battalions fell, choking on the thick mists which spewed forth from the canisters.

“ _..._ _the finest beauty on earth…_ ”

An east wind scattered and lifted more smoke to the flying cultivators, causing them to fall back to earth and bounce off of the

“ _A glance from her, the city falls…_ ”

Clad in green, Qing Cangcui laughed as Song Qi alighted back onto the battlements, her personal sword awash in white light. “ _A second glance, the_ _nation_ _perishes..._ ”

A folding fan with iron spokes was already in her hand as she made a gesture of challenge.

“ _No city or empire, has ever been more cherished..._ ”

Song Qi gave a cold laugh as she sliced the thin skin of her thumb on the sharp edges of the pine-emblem lapel pin and smeared the resulting red on her inner collar. “We’ve been looking to test out this weapon specially made for monsters like Hong Yuan! Now see our CangSong Sect’s Mulberry Robe!”

“ _...than a beauty like this._ ”

* * *

On the opposite end of the city, Bai Lin stood on the battlements of the north wall. His personal sword, which bore his own courtesy name of Sangyu, remained in its sheath, laid on the ground before its owner’s meditative lotus position.

From the sky dropped a red shadow. The red shadow took off his red outer robe and belt, carefully folding the articles before putting both belt and outerwear on the battlement walls, leaving him in under-shorts and a red _dudou_.

As he started to warm up, Hong Yuexia turned his chest _._ The gesture revealed several thin cross-shaped scars on the meat of his back, all stitched together with red thread and crusted over with cruor. The scars, however, were quickly covered with a diaphanous gauze shawl pulled from the lining of his outer robe, which rippled in the slightest breeze without a single stain of blood.

Bai Lin averted his eyes. “Hong Yuan! I do you the courtesy of appearing in person. Do not dishonour me by taking your clothes off!”

“I beat your elder brother Song in my underwear,” Hong Yuexia snorted. “You were there, I recall.”

“I also recall your trap!” Bai Lin retorted, pointing towards the outer robe. “Years ago, in that tournament! My brother had you on the ropes, and then the clothing that you already discarded on the fighting stage attacked him and tied him up!”

“Clothes count as a weapon,” Hong Yuexia gave a winning smile as he tossed the loose strands of hair from his bun back, turning Bai Lin’s attention to his neck. “Or do you make it a habit for everyone who fights you to strip naked? I tell you, I won’t strip for just any man.”

“You-!”

The Sangyu sword thrust towards Hong Yuexia’s neck, only for the gauzy shawl to loop around its blade and turn it towards the heavens.

Hong Yuexia’s slap then sent Bai Lin into the battlements. Having yet to take off his shoes, the specially fitted paulownia heel of Hong Yuexia’s shoes then kicked at Bai Lin’s back, forcing the CuiBai Sect Leader into a human crater made with his own body into the rammed earth.

 _PING-PANG_.

The other heel made it back to the ground, and then Hong Yuexia’s kicking leg drew back. All of this takes some time to describe, but actually happened in an instant.

A conch shell hung from his left palm by a red string, which was placed to his ear.

“En. En. Shuijing, yes? I’ve already reached SongBai.” Hong Yuexia drawled into the conch shell’s opening. “The delay? I got lost and didn’t feel like flying. Do we absolutely _have_ to occupy SongBai?”

A moment of silence.

“…she’s already here… I understand. I’ll remain in the city until reinforcements come.”

Another click of his heels, and then the conch shell was tossed back to the pile of outerwear. During this time, Bai Lin had reached back to his feet, making a quick dart before rolling away. The expected cry of pain, though, did not come.

“En?” Hong Yuexia glanced back as the cut made by Bai Lin stitched itself back together under Bai Lin’s gaze. “It must have taken all your remaining spiritual energy to stab through the protection of Wufeng,” he commented absently.

“Wufeng? ‘No seams’?” Bai Lin scoffed, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry. “You have yet to draw your personal weapon, and this set of ‘Dress of the Heavens’ – no, ‘Heaven’s Clothes’… the wearer is invulnerable to sabres and spears already, and this is just the underwear. The set… the Mulberry Robe...”

“Oh?” A corner of Hong Yuexia’s lips turned up, and the clicking of his heels made him loom towards the man that Hong Yuexia was walking towards. “Years ago, the first set of clothes that I mixed my Threads of Fate went missing. Perhaps, the one who suffered a dog’s defeat from it thought, since I tend to strip naked at all opportunities, I would not miss them?!”

Bai Lin gave a cry of pain as one wooden heel slammed into his dominant hand. The cry cut off as the other heel kicked into his head, snapping his head back with superhuman strength and sending him on an ignoble roll across the battlements. Thunder cracked overhead, and lightning shot in all directions but particularly hit the CuiBai disciples flying overhead.

With each step, deep cracks began to appear underfoot in the rammed-earth floor of the battlements.

“Your orthodox sects always take my things,” Hong Yuexia’s attention did not seem too focused, even as Bai Lin scrambled to his feet and performed a series of sword moves that sliced the air around him and forced slicing winds like projectiles in his direction. The footwork needed to avoid all the slicing winds was done almost absently. “The prototype of the Dress of the Heavens. The prototype for the Qiankun bag. The embroidery spells to reinforce clothings with incantations. Even him…!”

As he spoke, he sounded more and more angry, until the blade of Sangyu met the heel of one shoe, and lost in spectacular splinters.

“Yes, you take the things of an Immortal.” Hong Yuexia cackled down at Bai Lin. “Because an Immortal should have the heart to embrace all living things, so all my inventions and ideas have to be taken?! All the things precious to me have to be offered to the world?! When did treasuring a jade ring become a crime?”

“All cultivators… must fight for the common people,” Bai Lin spat out a tooth, waving about like a kite with its string cut. “Had you… decided differently… you would have been the most glorious cultivator.”

“I’m just a tailor, remember?!” The next blow came from a punch, which did not lose its effectiveness in kicking the CuiBai Sect Leader about. “Whether noble or despicable, there is no one single path to the Dao! Your CuiBai Sect, the other rotten wood’s CangSong Sect, the Qingdian Sect… none of you Alliance dogs have the heart for the common people! Isn’t that why you control cities, hide in your little mountains, and preach about _noble_ against _despicable_ people?!”

The purple robes he wore were spattered with blood and his coronet askew, but Bai Lin’s eyes fluttered. “We cannot move freely… in this world. What you preached – that Apotheosis was left up to fate – challenges the concept of cultivation itself that goes against fate itself. The disorder of every random person trying their luck at immortality… was too frightening.”

As bolts of lightning struck the four corner towers of the city walls, Hong Yuexia threw his head back and laughed. “Bai Lin, Bai Sangyu! The thing that you’re most afraid of is _me_! That the first person to ascend to Immortality was a mere orphaned tailor, not one of your soft and weak nobles born into cultivator families!”

Bai Lin drew a breath. “All of this – kicking me around, playing at fighting me, this shaming… this is merely lashing out at us because we forced DaiYuePiXing- _Zun_ to death over your clothes.”

The very storm brewing overhead calmed; more accurately, it stopped, a thing almost with a life of its own hovering between fording on and turning back. Hong Yuexia curled his bottom lip.

“The first Heaven’s Clothes… now the Mulberry Robe.” Bai Lin sighed. “After the grand tournament, he came to us to demand them back, even though you discarded them… but Sister-in-law had already dyed the silks in preparation for making a new robe. The rice had already been cooked, and that stubborn man just wouldn’t learn to compromise. I swear, we didn’t… know… in that fight, my worthy brother was wearing the Mulberry Robe… he lost control-”

“You beat Huang Zhenggang to death over the clothes you stole from me,” Hong Yuexia gave a stiff bark of laughter. “We are enemies who cannot live under the same skies. I promised over his grave that I will repay this enmity three times over. Your life, your family, and your sect.”

Bai Lin spat out another cough of blood. “You can... kill me... with the ease of crushing dry weeds and smashing rotten wood,” he agreed. “But my family and my students have all evacuated the city to Mt Cangtian. By the time you advance northwards, they will be behind arrays that will take even you months to break.”

Stooping down, Hong Yuexia stabbed the tip of the Sangyu sword’s broken blade with a reverse grip, into Bai Lin’s throat. “Assuming that they can even get out of the city.”

“A- Ah?”

“Qing Cangcui is there,” Hong Yuexia purred as he twisted the blade and tore open Bai Lin’s throat. “I have every faith that one glance from her has already felled the disciples… of course, with her poison fumes. Now, enough time for you. I have someone to see about roast pheasant...”

* * *

**The song：**

 


	5. 第四章：Enveloping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, this is just asking for your clothes to be stolen, right?”

# 第四章：Enveloping

By the topmost peak of Mt Cangqiong, a giant brush flew handle-first across the space. Perched side-saddle on that handle, Su Chenglong had another ink brush in hand, painting a straight line around the granite peak of Mt Cangqiong without stopping. His ink brush never ran out of ink, and as he completed his circumference of the peak, he flicked the brush in an upwards gesture, scattering droplets across the granite.

The giant brush flew up ahead, and Su Chenglong slowly watched the teetering granite peak begin to tear itself apart in the line that he had inscribed around Mt Cangqiong. Unable to bear its own weight, the granite stone began to break itself apart, boulders of mossy stones and root-riddled soil clumps cascading down into the valley between Mt. Cangqiong and the neighbouring Canghai Hill.

Another conch, its top tied with a white thread, fell out from his sleeve with a shake.

“Shuijing? The valley’s sealed off.” Su Chenglong spoke into the conch. “Moving so far into the Alliance’s territory, though...”

“ _Which is why only_ _Chenglong_ _, and no one else in the BaiYi Sect can do this_ ,” a masculine voice petered out from the conch. “ _This is a situation necessary to awaken_ _the_ _instinct_ _of our good friend_ _._ _It is also a test – if the Soup of Forgetfulness can erase his instinct so completely, then it no longer matters if the one who wears the moon and stars is physically alive._ ”

“It is through overcoming trials that we advance onwards to cultivate our bodies and minds to face the trial of immortality,” Su Chenglong admitted, contemplating the mountain whose peak he had just sliced. “Shuijing, I’ll draw a thunderstorm to keep them down before I go and pick Cangcui up as agreed.”

“ _Of course,_ _Chenglong_ _._ _I can watch the rest with my_ _High-Hanging Mirror._ _By the way..._ ”

“Yes?”

“ _The Beautiful Disaster came again._ _Do you know anything about Yuexia owing her a... wedding dress?_ ”

“...I’ll ask the wife,” Su Chenglong said at last. “Little Mei probably got over that white-faced monk and is trying to settle down.”

Leading one side of an entire society, he reflected, was very much like playing a gossiping aunt.

* * *

It was rare that cultivators were seen travelling on foot. After all, what the common people thought of as cultivators involved them flying in some form or other.

However, there was indeed no other way to leave SongBai. The skies had been seized by the choking poisonous fumes controlled carefully within an impromptu barrier, and the caster Qing Cangcui was currently fighting the CangSong heiress on the south wall’s battlements. The students who could remain calm, including Huang Jin, were thus evacuating their juniors to fall back to the fortress of Mt. Cangtian at the south of the city, just beyond Huang Jin’s actual home in Mt. Cangqiong.

“It’s only one woman!” Song Tong was being held back from returning to SongBai. “Why can’t I go back?”

“None of the Five Stars can be considered truly human, Young Master!” The other disciple clad in celadon insisted. “Every time one of them come out into the world, only disaster awaits us!”

He was not wrong. SongBai was actually the second main headquarters that the CangSong and CuiBai Sects were forced to relocate to after killing the DaiYuePiXing- _Zun._ This was because their old headquarters was now a crater due to the late elder’s efforts. In terms of destruction on an epic scale, the Five Stars were indeed harbingers of destruction to the cultivation world.

“Then we just need to cut her head off-” A yellow shadow fell from the battlements as Song Tong turned back. “Big Sister!”

Qing Cangcui threw herself from the battlements to hit ground level. A small crater and dust kicked up from where she hit the ground with her feet and left hand first. Her right hand was next, leaving her in a rolling motion and then guiding her to her feet after the impromptu and ignoble landing.

Song Qi got up around this time as well. A hundred _li_ south, the sight of the retreating disciples of the CangSong and CuiBai Sects was within her excellent sight. Furrowing her brow, Song Qi pulled her outer robe tighter around herself, hiding the yellow under-robe.

“Now I see what is meant by ‘wearing green outerwear with yellow underclothes’,”1 Qing Cangcui snarled. “Your Song family stole Yuexia’s clothes to make that!”

“The Mulberry Robe is indeed powerful,” Song Qi’s fist curled even as she smiled. “Even if the JieJue Grandmaster invented it, the making of clothes are not limited to him!”

“...” Qing Cangcui grimaced, cradling her right hand as the fingers were pointing in the wrong direction. A crack resounded as she forcibly corrected their position, the bones and cuts reforming to leave her white jade-like arms perfect once more.

“I forgot, the Northern Beauty is said to have a ‘complete jade-like body’,”2 Song Qi remarked, her personal sword Qiluo still pointed towards Qing Cangcui.

“Oh, the eldest Miss Song has a sharp tongue,” Qing Cangcui giggled, her folding fan still in hand. “But, everyone is stripped by me sooner or later in my medical room. You are no exception!”

“We are bound to life by birth, and we leave life once it is cut short. But, as long as I, Song Qi, is here, none of you will head south!”

Relaxing her stance, Qing Cangcui just gave Song Qi a smile. “En, very well. I’m not going to fight you any more, change of opponents.”

“Who will take your place?” Song Qi’s cold smile persisted. “The JieJue Grandmaster? Uncle Bai is still holding him back at the north wall...”

The words had yet to fall when a flash of white descended to earth, the surroundings became awash in cold white light, and a giant ink brush started to attack Song Qi.

“My husband is the best~!” Qing Cangcui sang as she skipped away. “Husband! That little miss is wearing-”

“I have eyes!” Su Chenglong’s giant brush lost some hair to the sword which Song Qi wielded for his head. “Who do they think they are, trying to dye Yuexia’s red in their own colours!”

Another war banner set itself up next to Qing Cangcui’s cyan banner – this one was ultramarine, with only one character painted in grey:

素

A red shadow vaulted over the battlements of the south city wall of SongBai, and landed lightly with a sharp _crack_.

“Cangcui’s medicine worked,” Hong Yuexia slowly meandered past where Song Qi was fighting Su Li, towards Qing Cangcui. “Why did you...?”

“My disguise is useless now that you’re here,” Qing Cangcui shrugged. “You brought Chenglong’s flag?”

“I have all our flags hidden up my sleeve.”

“Of course you do.”

Hong Yuexia had invented the Qiankun bag which could store anything and still be easily carried regardless of the total weight. The bags used by the Alliance dogs, in Qing Cangcui’s mind, could not compare to the bags made by the JieJue Grandmaster. Those bags had theoretically infinite storage capacity, as well as other add-ons in the form of spell embroidery, such as temperature control, compartmentalisation, and water- and air-sealing.

“It is not the city which I must worry about.”

“Yes, yes, you won’t care even if the entire city dies right now,” Qing Cangcui rolled her eyes at the skies. “So go and find your husband.”

“...I promised Shuijing that I would wait for reinforcements to occupy this city.”

“You still listen to him? I thought your mind was occupied with your husband until you forgot your friends!”

“...” Hong Yuexia glared at her.

By the sidelines, neither of them looked at Song Qi’s leg being broken by another swing of the giant brush handle. The fallen hair from the brush flew up and returned to their ferrule, rendering Su Li’s brush intact once again.

“My personal weapon Dianjing won’t lose its hairs so easily,” Su Chenglong told Song Qi as the latter wobbled unsteadily. “As for you… you only just formed your Golden Core, yes, Miss Song?”

“Elder Su praises me too much,” Song Qi growled, smearing her already bloody left thumb on the collar of her yellow under-robe once more. “I do not deserve such praise. I cannot afford to disengage from Elder Su to take on the JieJue Grandmaster.”

The celadon outer robe was discarded at last, to reveal a yellow silk  _xinyi. 3 _A multicoloured phoenix was embroidered with wings spread across the hemline over her bosom.

“Miss Song is not the type to hide her body, it seems,” Hong Yuexia was the first one to speak after a long beat of silence.

“Grandmaster Hong praises me,” Song Qi’s eyes lingered on Hong Yuexia, pointing her sword away from Su Chenglong towards Hong Yuexia. “I do not have the Grandmaster’s courage to parade about in public wearing only my underclothes. Please grant me a lesson!”

“You exhibitionist, go pester your man, don’t steal my opponents!” Su Chenglong scolded Hong Yuexia. “Even someone else’s precious daughter has been tainted by you!”

“The Dress of the Heavens devours the wearer’s blood in order to activate its powers,” Hong Yuexia blinked slowly, contemplating the young girl.

The young girl immediately jumped into action, her sword narrowly stabbing at Hong Yuexia if not for his  _dudou_. Another slash at his unprotected arm created no effect, as if the protection of the dudou spread to the entirety of Hong Yuexia’s skin.

“However, when one bears fate upon his back, one also bears the risk of being devoured by fate, his mind overridden with the inevitable giving himself over to his role,” Hong Yuexia continued his reverie despite the attacks on his person. He may as well have been a talking boulder, and Song Qi might have been on a training field venting on an inanimate training scarecrow.

“Of my entire outer robe years ago, only one part out of ten was composed of that thread of fate.” Hong Yuexia touched his back, which was still covered with the gauzy red shawl.

Stopping her assault, Song Qi panted, her sword heavy in her hand. “That’s right…. My honourable father dismantled the outer robe that you had discarded so easily, and teased out each and every fragment of your Red String of Fate! We re-dyed them in our blood and wove the threads into a new fabric, the cloth only enough to make one set of underclothes which we call the Mulberry Robe. Very few of our CangSong Sect’s disciples could bear the strain of wearing this, though… it was a succession test by our father to determine the next leader of the CangSong Sect.”

“Song Dongyu is more concerned with his precious seat as Sect Leader than the future of his sect,” Hong Yuexia yawned, a pitying look directed from him to Song Qi. “Most likely, your younger brother who’s the eldest formal son was not even present at that succession test. The brothers and sisters of the side courtyards who share the same father as Miss Song yourself were sacrificed to this… yellow robe?4 They all died.”

His eyes glittered at Song Qi, a colour like kingfisher feathers or green jade. “In exchange for the position of successor, you were made into a weapon, a lump of flesh to be stuffed into the Heaven’s Clothes and bearing the fate of the CangSong sect in your mind.”

“You lie!” Song Qi refuted with a slash at Hong Yuexia’s head. “I have taken the yellow robe upon my person! Even if I must bare the rest of my body to use this Mulberry Robe to its full power, I will not bend my brows! You face the next leader of the CangSong Sect, Song Qi!”

The Qiluo sword was deflected away, the slice on Hong Yuexia’s cheek mending itself in a flash. By the sidelines, though, Su Chenglong and Qing Cangcui made identical looks of shock.

The idiom ‘to take the yellow robe upon one’s person’5 was a direct declaration of crowning oneself – as emperor. If Song Qi was admitting to such ambition, that made things… interesting.

Only her under-trousers remained of Song Qi’s original clothings still on her person, besides the inadequate Mulberry Robe. The bend of her back and the lift of her arms, though, spoke of unspeakable pride.

Hong Yuexia wiped away the remaining gore from where his wound had healed over.

“Bai Sangyu did not have your courage,” he noted, still preoccupied with the coppery stain over his nails, painted bright red like the outer robe now tied over his hips. “Or your ambition. Clothing is clothing; to be worn by humans and controlled by humans. So you say, Miss Song?”

“Clothings could not be anything else!” Song Qi snapped back. “The Mulberry Robe is under my control!”

“This Grandmaster begs to differ; to me, it is clothing which defines humans amongst the ten thousand living things of the world.” Hong Yuexia’s eyes narrowed, the lustre of his eyes never lost as he pointed at Song Qi. “Clothing, food, housing and transport define the necessities of life. Likewise, clothing define their wearer’s status amongst people – the emperor has his dragon robe, the official his purple gown. It is clothing which confer upon the wearer the expectations of humanity!”

Under Song Qi’s confused eyes, his fingers snapped together.

Her back stiffened. The embroidered phoenix almost seemed to come alive as Song Qi’s already pale face grew paler, the yellow silk tightening over her body as if eager to devour its wearer whole.

“What’s happening?! No… no… please, no…!!!!”

“The saying ‘a dressed-up animal’6 defines an immoral and despicable person; a beast in human clothes,” Hong Yuexia ignored the woman’s screams. “I feel sorry for the animals who turn into fairies and have to wear clothes. Their wild consciousness is devoured by clothes, and they hide amongst people. This is not the first set of clothes stolen from me, but this is certainly the first time I’ve seen anyone regard underwear as the robes of an imperial monarch.”

* * *

The troop of disciples headed to Mt Cangtian were faced with a terrible obstacle once they reached Mt Cangqiong; Mt Cangqiong had faced a rockslide, the resulting rubble blocking off the valley to Mt Cangtian. Even worse, a miasma had fallen over the skies, and every few exhalations brought forth the rumble of thunder from directly overhead.

“A storm is too dangerous to fly with our swords,” Huang Jin had assessed.

“That’s true,” Bai Cheng spoke up. “Young Master Huang possesses accurate judgement of the present, if only lacking a solution.”

As the eldest inner disciple and formal successor to Bai Lin, the CuiBai Sect disciples evacuating to Mt Cangtian were nominally under his command at the moment. However, his pointed remark made the awkward position of outer disciples extremely clear.

Huang Jin did not care. “We must move the blockage. Brothers, with me!”

“We’re going to wait out the storm!” Bai Cheng snarled at him first.

“Man proposes and the heavens disposes. In the absence of any movement from the WuXing, we have to try as much as possible!” And with this rebuttal, Huang Jin then moved to work.

Since Huang Jin had only just established his Foundation, and did not have a personal sword, he had not thought about flying first. However, since flying by sword was not even an option at the moment, there was only the back-breaking work of moving a mountain. The boulders rolled, pushed or were simply hauled along by him and some other disciples in a ragtag fashion. Some female disciples began to set up a bonfire and tend to the injured, and some male disciples stood watch with weapons drawn when taking a break from moving boulders.

Bai Cheng was chiefly amongst the latter, but he had the advantage of coordinating between all the activities of the impromptu camp; tending to the injured, organising watches, even scouting himself. Song Tong tried to pick up some duties, but most of his time was spent bossing around the disciples of the CangSong sect more than actually digging.

Hours passed before Huang Jin was finally pushed to take a break. Luckily, the rockslide did not touch the forestry and left the nearby stream clear, which only strengthened Huang Jin’s conviction of the rockslide having some human method behind its cause. The cultivator disciples had already collected fresh water when they passed the downstream portion on their way to Mt Cangtian, so Huang Jin felt no guilt in taking off his mud-stained clothes to attempt at salvaging the uniform. Hanging them on a nearby tree, Huang Jin tucked his own Qiankun bag under a tree root and proceeded to wade into the stream naked.

A clear voice then rang out:

“You know, this is just asking for your clothes to be stolen, right?”

* * *

**1 绿衣黄里 – a Chinese idiom describing a complete reversal of social position and seniority. In ancient China, there were laws governing the use of colour amongst the people. Yellow was an important colour, considered to symbolise the earth, and thus the centre of the world, so its use was restricted to the Emperor and royal family, as well as for monks. Green, in contrast, was a frivolous and common colour associated with low social status – brothels were also called 青楼‘green buildings’. The proper order of colours would be to wear green underclothes with yellow over the green; hence, reversing the order of colours reverses the order of things in Chinese society.**

**2 完璧之身 – Chinese idiom meaning ‘undefiled’, a virgin. Can also mean ‘uncorrupted’ or ‘clean’, in reference to computer systems.**

**3 This is a xinyi: <http://jiemi.att.hudong.com/upload/images/article/e8/74/a30bfeb3ce8a0d62625fb1910d44.png>**

****

**4 柘袍 is the Chinese rendering of the Mulberry Robe I put for it. This word is actually used to refer to the ‘imperial yellow robe’.**

**5 黄袍加身 – figurative idiom meaning ‘to be made emperor’; ‘to take the crown’. See the previous footnote on 绿衣黄里 for the importance of yellow as a marker of status in Chinese culture.**

**6 衣冠禽兽**


	6. 第五章：Attending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why would you even want my clothes?”
> 
> “Because I feel like it.”

#  第五章：Attending

A hundred _li_ north of Mt Cangqiong was the south city wall of SongBai city. The midday sun burned overhead. Within the city limits, not a single cultivator was in the sky, nor was there any cultivator action at all on the walls.

A shadow flew across the rooftops from the direction of the ZhongWu Hall at the city centre. It hit the ground running, and then raced vertically up the wall surface to park itself on the battlements. Now that it had stopped, the shadow was a man clad in brown robes hemmed with red, a red strip of cloth tying up the bun of his long hair.

“Subordinate Nan Yu, reporting to Grandmaster Hong!” The man sank to one knee, cupping his fist towards the figure in proper scarlet standing to look over the battlements. “Bei Jue of the BiShui Sect has already arrived with reinforcements!”

“Is that so? Then that is excellent. Coordinate with the reinforcements to search ZhongWu Hall for important information. I want a report when I return.”

“As Grandmaster commands!”

Hong Yuexia turned his head minutely towards the black shadow that descended slowly next to himself. “See, Shuijing? Your birthday present came early.”

“My birthday isn’t until ten days later,” the man clad in a black Taoist robe rolled his eyes, nearly shaking loose the simple hair-stick in his bun. “Are you that desperate for longevity buns and noodles? This poor Taoist cannot afford that!”

“You’re lying, and I know you have the account books,” was Hong Yuexia’s simple reply. “I’ll even get Little Mei off your case.”

“I’ll be even more thankful if you’d just keep her away from me!” Wu Luan, courtesy name Shuijing, the notorious GaoXuan- _Zhenren_ who controls the magic mirror Shuiyue, was now complaining. “She was dumped by the monk and now she’s pestering _me_!”

“I don’t even know why, everyone knows you prefer the south side,” Hong Yuexia glibly agreed. “But, you know that she’s asking me for a wedding dress, right?”

“Then we’ll come along and eat the banquet,” Wu Shuijing spat back.

“You’re never going to get married like that, Shuijing~”

“I’ve left home, unlike that monk!”

Hong Yuexia thought in his heart, that despite the handsomeness of his comrade’s clean-cut features, nothing could help the sharpness of his dour manner, or the constant bitterness of his face reflected to the world – as if his wife had died. Perhaps it was for the best that the ‘monk’ turned travelling musician that they kept talking about was still in an unspeakable relationship with ‘Little Mei’.

“It’s not that I’m talking about you… but this sworn sister of yours is really...”

“We both grew up in Yihong Court, she was a courtesan, and I strip every time I decide to check how my clothings hold up,” Hong Yuexia assessed as he pulled his outer robe shut and began tying his belt on. “I gave you a city, and now I’m going to get some peace. When I get back, you can tell me all about the newest torrid affair that this unreliable younger sworn sister got into. I’m going to eat pheasant now~!”

“You gluttonous idiot!” Wu Shuijing’s roar echoed behind the dust plume of Hong Yuexia’s landing, and then the red shadow of the JieJue Grandmaster disappeared. “You’re even using the Reduced Earth skill?!”

“Priest,” Nan Yu merely stood up and bowed, cupping his fist before turning as to greet Qing Cangcui and Su Chenglong leisurely strolling towards them. “Master Su, Madame Qing.”

“The JieJue Sect disciples all have such nice bodies,” Qing Cangcui commented.

“Replying to Madame Qing, many thanks for the compliment, it is an honour.”

A slight smile was bestowed on Nan Yu. “How did Yuexia produce such a good seedling? Dong Gong isn’t even half as good an assistant...”

“Nan Yu, go about your business.” Wu Shuijing directly dismissed the man, who vanished as fast as the master he served. “Cangcui, did you compile a report?”

“I have something better,” Qing Cangcui told Wu Shuijing. “We were right that Song Rong stole the outer robe of Yuexia’s old Dress of the Heavens during the grand tournament years ago. He refitted it and made his daughter wear it as a means of combating Yuexia, but they apparently don’t know that Yuexia can control all Threads of Fate. Song Qi… was about to become a beast in human clothes… but I tranquillised her first.”

Wu Shuijing’s brows furrowed. He had seen the results of Hong Yuexia turning people who stole her clothes and used their powers against the JieJue Sect first-hand – the sight of clothes eating their wearer and not even leaving bones was too gory to forget. “You think...”

Qing Cangcui nodded. “Ambitious,” she mouthed.

“...Song Qi is already the successor of the CangSong Sect.”

“Successors can change all the time,” Qing Cangcui dismissed. “What we can try is to push her to take the leadership from Song Dongyu. How many of our opponents had fallen to Hong Yuexia’s charisma? An ambitious woman like Song Qi with few resources at her disposal has to try. We just need to push a bit...”

“You’re playing with people’s hearts like this, Cangcui,” Su Chenglong added on the sidelines. “Can we afford the consequences?”

“Even if we cannot afford them, we must,” Qing Cangcui snapped back. “Given the Alliance’s current resources, this war could be fought for years on end even if we seized the upper hand this time.”

“...” Su Chenglong sighed. “DaiYuePiXing- _Zun_ would not like to see us like this.”

“He’s not here,” Qing Cangcui bit back. “So unless he comes back, he has no say in this, nor with Yuexia!”

* * *

The matters of what the mysterious last member of the Five Stars was permitted to speak upon remained unknown.

What Huang Jin was permitted to say, however, was: “Why would you even want my clothes?”

“Because I feel like it.”

The devilish-looking Hong Yuan was posed by the riverbank on his front, his face perched in his hands to look straight at Huang Jin. The red robes hung askew on his frame, his outer robe almost hanging around his hips, revealing not only one shoulder but also the white of his breastbone and the lengths of his calves. The jade-like eyes glittered with something that Huang Jin was unable to describe – not hostility, but more like a kitten’s eyes when faced with food to play with. The bare calves of his legs were lifted up, showing the strange foot-wraps around his ankles and feet ending with a small wooden piece at each heel.

The sight was devilishly attractive, Huang Jin thought in his mind. It was also definitely not for moral guardians to see.

“You look too plain in white,” Hong Yuan continued. “It bleaches all the life out of you.”

“It is the school uniform.”

“En,” Hong Yuan rolled around, smiling upside-down back to Huang Jin. “You owe me a roast pheasant, Jin- _lang_.” 1

“...If Sir sees one around here to roast, do tell,” came the earnest reply. “Then you must go on your way.”

Although he did not talk much, Huang Jin was fairly confident in his ability to assess personalities. Why this particular Immortal had chosen to fixate on him now, Huang Jin could not and did not quite care, but it was advantageous for him. He was an outside disciple – a glorified servant of the major sects. To advance any further in his cultivation would require a patron, at least, in the case that he elected to become a rogue cultivator.

The fear of offending this individual was weighed carefully with the fear of chasing him away out of boredom. In Huang Jin’s mind, it was like how a fire needed some poking and stirring around its ashes with a stick to keep burning.

“In that case, I might as well wait until you find access to a kitchen.” The calves crossed and raised up as Hong Yuan rolled onto his stomach once more, the curve of his spine resembling a fish-dragon statue2 that was supposedly placed on the roof of the legendary imperial palaces that neither of them had ever seen.

“Are you trying to swallow the stream?”

“Does Huang- _xiong_ want me to swallow something else?” Those fascinating eyes glittered in provocation. “Clouds, or rain… swallowing either one would give me joy like a fish in water.” 3

“You do have the ability to call the wind and summon the rain,4 yes,” Huang Jin waded close to the riverbank, looming over Hong Yuan’s prone figure.

Huang Jin frowned. “What happened to your back?”

“My clothes got too rough with me,” sighed the man. “Calling the winds and summoning rain… Huang- _xiong_ , you’re going to let me do it all by myself?”

“If I do it with you, would you lift the blockage in the valley?”

“I could, but that would defeat the purpose.” Hong Yuexia reached out, almost touching a bare thigh except for Huang Jin moving back.

“You-!”

“And we were playing so well together in the water, hahaha… no.” The smile slid off of Hong Yuan’s face with that pronouncement. “However, I can give you a hint.”

“...may Elder bestow upon me a lesson.”

“Nothing so serious,” Hong Yuan tutted. “Do I look old?”

“It is hard to say. Elder is an Immortal.”

Past a certain stage of cultivation, cultivators could stop ageing, or age in reverse, or move directly back into their bodies as a child. Others could hide their ages as well. The rare cultivator who did not hide the centuries on his or her face were either: failures who could not reach the cultivation necessary; retirees who have cut off all worldly ties including vanity; and, the truly elderly who felt that they needed the gravity and authority that came with an older appearance.

“Immortal?” Hong Yuan giggled. “Okay… I am an Immortal, so we can play the Cowherd and the Weaver. If I steal your clothes now, will you be able to return to the heavens, hahahahahaha… ah?”

The back of his _dudou_ had come loose under one sharp tug from Huang Jin. Leaning forward, Huang Jin hissed into the shell of one ear: “Shouldn’t you be the Immortal, and this Huang the one who strips your clothes off?”

Huang Jin heard a breath catch.

“If I recall correctly, the poor fairy was left powerless after her clothes were stolen,” Huang Jin contemplated aloud, listening for a quickening breath which he got. “Do I have to check if that works on the JieJue Grandmaster as well?”

“Y- You settle down, Jin-lang, Huang- _xiong_ , great Master Huang… a gentleman uses his mouth and not his fists, yes?”

“With you, I doubt any of the Alliance’s cultivators is inclined to be gentlemanly.” But Huang Jin still put his already dry outer robe over the other’s back. “I still have half a valley to clear. Once I clear it, and the other disciples reach Mt Cangtian, we can settle each other’s debts. Before my responsibilities are done, however, I will not entertain you.”

“Workaholic,” Hong Yuan sulked, but pointedly kept looking as Huang Jin started to dress himself. “Want me to tell you how to overcome the valley?”

“...why would you help me?”

“Well, if I really have the power to call the wind and summon the rain, then sending a typhoon ahead to Mt Cangtian is also possible,” was the calm answer. “It would also be rather boring. Watching you overcome that blockage would be more interesting.”

“So I’m entertainment to you?”

“You said it yourself, I’m an Immortal, already Ascended.” Hong Yuan tutted. “I have but time.”

“En.”

“...you need to cross over to the other side of Mt Cangqiong and clear it from that way,” Hong Yuan carefully told Huang Jin, sitting up with his legs askew and the white outer robe draped about him like a cloak. A snap of his fingers, and the red was magically dyed to white before Huang Jin’s eyes.

“...there is a storm that prevents people from flying.”

“Then the Earth itself will have to get you from one side to the other.”

Huang Jin looked up to the sky, opened his mouth, and closed it again. “… ‘Reduced Earth’? Using one step to cross a hundred and eight thousand _li_?”

“Nothing so big,” Hong Yuan stood back up, the click of one heel sounding on the riverbank. “I’ll be taking your robe as payment~”

“...could Elder enlighten me a bit more?” Huang Jin echoed. “I’ve only just established my Foundation, I don’t have the reserves of spiritual energy to command the Earth!”

Hong Yuan’s footsteps slowed down. A red string in his hair caught Huang Jin’s eye, unable to let him look elsewhere except at the figure illuminated by wan sunlight, almost like a picture under the cover of night.

“Jin- _lang_ , in order to obtain your goal of reaching the other side, the world itself must bend to your will. That is what you must first learn before I can tell you more.”

* * *

**1  金郎 – 郎 is a noun prefix for young men. Another meaning for it, however, is ‘husband’; the Chinese term for Mr Right is therefore 如意郎君‘an ideal husband’.**

**2 The Japanese  _shachihoko_ was based on the Chinese _chiwen_ , described as one of the 9 sons of the dragon who likes to swallow things. In Fengshui theory, a _chiwen_ supposedly protects against not only fire, but also flood and typhoon.**

**3  翻云覆雨 ‘to produce clouds with one turn of the hand and rain with another’ is also an allusion to sex. Likewise, 鱼水之欢 refers to sexual intercourse.**

**4  呼风唤雨 usually refers to the exercise of great (magical) power, or authority (great enough to influence the weather). The previous sentences, though, makes its a rather sexual allusion too.**


	7. 第六章：Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Was this what you wanted to tell me? That I'm… not… one of the orthodox cultivators?”
> 
> “Orthodoxy is defined by only an idea.”

#  第六章：Arguing

A day of toil was about to end, and Huang Jin had yet to make a dent in the rockslide. The other disciples of the combined sects had already abandoned him to his toil. His white clothes – now limited to the two under-layers of his uniform, his pants rolled up above his knees and his shoes abandoned – were streaked with mud. It would have been easier to think of him as a coolie than a distinguished student of the infamously erudite CuiBai Sect.

“Enough for today, Sir Huang!” Bai Cheng was the one yelling at him now. “The storm will dissipate soon, and then we can fly over it.”

“And then what about people who can’t fly?!”

Faced with Huang Jin’s passionate outburst, Bai Cheng stepped back for a moment. He frowned, and then slowly began: “There are other solutions over the long-term-”

“How many people actually have an affinity for cultivation?” Huang Jin stopped work to point at the rockslide rubble. Dry blocks of earth still clumped together, threatening to fall off of the face of Mt Cangqiong over the heads of all the cultivators present. “Enough to gain a personal sword and the ability to fly? If we do not clear this, who else will? SongBai City has been abandoned, and no other great family in the region would remain here. If this valley is not cleared, even if we reach Mt Cangtian this rubble would block off any way for us to return and reclaim SongBai City!”

“But...” Bai Cheng just stared back. “The storm and the rubble is blocking our way at the moment. I know that you’re upset, but storms usually pass.” He stopped. “Assuming that the WuXing doesn’t catch up.”

“And… if they do?”

“...I hope that Father and Qi’er can buy us some time, then.” Bai Cheng changed the subject, frowning up to the rumbling cloudscape overhead.

“Eldest Young Master...” Huang Jin shook his head. “I understand. Please allow me to work on my own then.”

“You’ll still proceed, with or without my permission, wouldn’t you, Sir Huang?” Bai Cheng looked around for a brief moment, before his eyes stopped on the small mountain of rubble enough to remodel a whole garden. “You might be an outside disciple, but… that could change, you know.”

“I am afraid it will not.”

“Why not?” Bai Cheng began to panic. “I will vouch for you before the Sect Elders. If the WuXing is… we desperately need talents like Qi’er and you, Sir Huang. If it is about your surname...”

“I will not be adopted into the Bai family,” Huang Jin firmly replied. “It is nothing against the sect. It is only that my fate lies elsewhere.”

The sky could fall now, and the earth would rest steady with the strength of Huang Jin’s conviction. That was the impression that Bai Cheng got and was floored with.

“Now, I will move this mountain,” Huang Jin snarled in challenge. “It will move, or it will _be_ moved.”

* * *

In SongBai City, ZhongWu Hall had been seized, and prisoners from both CangSong and CuiBai sects locked away under heavy guard. The hall itself was taken by the four greatest current threats of the cultivation world, who were…

….having an art gallery.

“Your paintings always look like they’re coming alive.”

“In some cases, they actually are,” Su Li teased as he beheld the five hanging scrolls suspended in mid-air in the middle of ZhongWu Hall.

Blocking the main doors of the Hall in the south was a painting of a red-dressed figure under an osmanthus tree under a full moon by a lake. A red string weaved and floated around the figure’s hands. On the lake floated a pair of mandarin ducks.

Facing this painting was a drawing of a flat mirrored surface, as if blackened silver had been pressed into the fibres itself to make a smoothly reflective surface. The mirror’s surface rippled under Wu Shuijing’s stare.

“The theme of these paintings are ‘legends that mortals tell of us’!” Su Li pointed to Wu Shuijing. “GaoXuan- _Zhenren_. Your infamous mirror is still used in the circles of law.”

“Where the power of the law remains,” came the grumbling admission.

“Naturally.”

Su Li then pointed to one Hong Yuexia, who was just staring at the central painting, a red over-robe draped across his shoulders like some wildly improvised cape. He then pointed to the painting of the red-dressed figure. “The Elder Under the Moon, the current Immortal of this generation! Holder of the Lovers’ Record, he who ties the Red String of Fate, and thus matches all the lovers under the heavens. It’s already impressive, but you cap it further by outright controlling fate itself – fortune as unpredictable as the weather is within your grasp.”

Hong Yuexia gave him a doubtful look. “You painted the weather, with your magic paintbrush,” he slowly said. “The storm is still there, Ma Liang of the Divine Brush.”

Su Li only laughed.

“And there you are,” Hong Yuexia pointed to the painting hanging in the west, which showed a painter at work while his painting of a dragon came out of its frame.

“Cangcui’s painting….” Hong Yuexia turned around. “That is a lot of colour.”

In the east was a fourth painting, this one of a dancing figure, backlit by the dawn skies. The dancer stood amidst the ruins of a city mottled in moss, the walls overgrown with ivy, and trees breaking through the clay.

“I am an artist,” Was Su Li’s only reply. “How else was I supposed to show ‘the downfall of cities and countries’? But it doesn’t matter, you throw aside your friends for your lover, don’t you?”

“Should I compete with you for the ruinous beauty, then?”

Su Li smirked. “I’ll throw myself in _if_ you manage to convince Cangcui.”

“I’m not selling myself again, one liver was bad enough.” Qing Cangcui sharply reminded her husband. “I will chop you up for ingredients if you try it, Su Chenglong!”

Having yet to speak in this whole debacle, Wu Shuijing glanced at Hong Yuexia’s target of the central painting – a bearded man, dressed in a loincloth and hauling boulders up a rocky mountain path. Leading away from another mountain.

“ ‘The foolish old man moves the mountains’,” Wu Shuijing named the folk-tale which starred some shadow of their lost friend. “The fact that the mountains were a hindrance to the old man was a fact. The moral of the story was lost when they added how the old man’s perseverance moved the gods to move the mountain for him – why would the gods care about him at all? The gods only existed to detract from the fact that the old man moved the mountain, by himself. After all, such an existence…”

“Yes, Shuijing,” Hong Yuexia murmured to himself. “It can only be done by a god.”

* * *

Amidst a pile of rubble between Mt Cangqiong and Canghai Hill, a valley was cleared. A pile of rubble larger than a small hill was lifted, and then blown aside, as if the blow of a god had destroyed it.

On the other side of the former rockslide, Huang Jin staggered. A light patter of rain began to fall, overshadowing the awe of his achievement with fear from his fellow disciples as murmurs rose with the rain’s fall.

“...can’t be...”

“...outside disciple...”

“He just… disappeared! And then blew it apart!”

“Sir Huang just established his Foundation, right? T- That’s not a feat that’s possible...”

“R- Reduced Earth!” Bai Cheng’s yell pierced through the hubbub. “T- That’s Reduced Earth! DaiYuePiXing- _Zun_!”

A thunderclap resounded, and bolts of lightning fell from the skies with a flash of light. Amongst the flashes of white amongst the grey, there was a distinct scarlet sheen, a ribbon of vermilion that stretched beyond the horizon, and led back to the one next to him.

His face fell into carmine silk. “I am… _not_ one of them. Am I?”

“You technically are listed as an outside disciple,” the familiar voice sounded in his ear.

“Was this what you wanted to tell me? That I'm… not… one of the orthodox cultivators?”

Fingers carded through his hair, nimble and honed with the art of needle and thread. “Orthodoxy is defined by only an idea.”

“They won’t listen to me, will they?” Every breath stirred up the scent of tea and camphor – the latter possibly kept with silks in chests to keep the clothes-moths away.

“Jin- _lang_ , do you want them to listen?”

Huang Jin put his face out of the silk and stepped away from the camphor scent to behold Hong Yuan’s distant smile. At the same time, a clump of mud splashed onto his back.

“Traitor! Betrayal! Thief!”

The next clump of mud came in Hong Yuexia’s direction, though it turned in mid-air and missed by a long shot in a series of increasingly bizarre ricochets. The problem of mud ricocheting was resolved when scores of red threads loomed overhead and descended onto the scores of fighting cultivators.

A pair of blades shone in Hong Yuexia’s hands. These blades were attached with a thin strip of bronze, making them like tweezers. The blades faced each other, overlapping along their lengths to shear through anything put between them.

Two characters in great seal script were stamped on the straight tangs of this spring-scissors:

 

 

“The rise and fall concerns everyone!1” Hong Yuexia brandished the scissors like a sword. The blades screeched as they sheared through the air between themselves. Almost in harmony, the earth, the skies, the people caught in between…

Already horrified, the disciple cultivators present stood in awe before the Immortal who cut the world with a pair of scissors.

“Flourish, the people suffer!” His words came like a dark echo that rose like some crimson portent over the escaping disciples. “Perish, the people suffer!”

Faced with this complete monster, hardly anyone remembered Huang Jin, and by the time they did, he was already gone anyway.

* * *

**1  天下兴亡，匹夫有责 – a Chinese saying that means ‘Everyone bears responsibility for the prosperity of society’.**


	8. Interlude: Fates (缘分)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The daily life of Hong Yuexia, Immortal.

# Interlude：Fates（缘分）

The ultimate goal of all living things, as understood in the Way, is to live forever.

The pursuit of immortality is, however, limited by chance.

The JieJue Grandmaster writes: ‘ascension is not determined by effort, but by chance’. By this, he elaborated, all cultivation paths are validated in that all offer the chance of reaching the ultimate goal of becoming an Immortal. That same chance, however, may never be realised or may require some rare condition that triggers a reversal of fortunes. Those who follow the safe and widely established roads may therefore fail; those who walk on the single-board bridge may succeed, and all depends on chance.

It is very hard to believe it, that an Immortal is someone who has realised all the possibilities of the path of magic begun while mortal, and yet still be created by chance. It is harder to believe that the same path which created the first successful Immortal may fail to produce any other Immortal.

In this, Hong Yuexia is lucky; and luck itself is a manifestation of power.

* * *

Power itself did not always translate to influence; for Hong Yuexia, though, influence definitely came hand-in-hand with his own power. His domain of the Blue Sea Mulberry Fields was one such example; the Red Threads of Fate he wove were laid out so thick across the horizons, as to be a constant blight under the heavens. Forests of paper-mulberry trees, each teeming with cocooned silkworms, surrounded a hill where multiple dyeing frames latched onto the hill surface, each groaning with drying fabrics the colours of the rainbow. These frames themselves seemed to curtain the main entrance of the Fields, and also seemed like endless gates through which some unsuspecting wanderer might walk through time and space to the _now_ , in _this place_ , where their fateful audiences with an Elder Under the Moon would commence and terminate.

Jì Dan followed his father Jì Chang through one such curtained hallway, carpeted with winding patterns woven into the very cloth. The patterns themselves seemed to shift and wind, and sometimes a weaving shuttle poked through the cloth and descended back, like a fish which had gained water. Even for the son of the chief of Fengshan Village, this place gave him a deeper impression than the haunted cottage on the village outskirts.

“This is the abode of our village’s benefactor,” Jì Chang severely murmured as they lingered by a set of double doors, which resembled a set of hinged folding screens set in giant door frame. The screens were embroidered; they showed a phase of the moon over a forest of mulberry and plum trees, rendered in shades and tints of red. “Dan, you must never offend this person.”

Jì Dan had no such intention, but he still asked: “Why?”

Jì Chang opened his mouth, but a series of hurried footsteps ended in a cry. “Why, it’s Chief Jì, isn’t it?”

The elder Jì had a series of expressions indecipherable to his son, ending in something like hastily stifled panic. Both men of the Jì family slowly turned around to see a sallow-faced man dwarfed by the beard on his face.

“Chief Hao,” Jì Chang greeted the other. “The JieJue Grandmaster is entertaining you this day?”

“Ah, it is hard to gain an audience with the great deity,” Chief Hao shook his head. “I have spent much on the door-gifts, but the meat of the tribute has to be given to the holy one himself.”

“...I do not see the young Chief about.”

Chief Hao stopped smiling. “...the first son is unfilial and unrighteous, and the village leadership will not pass to him. It is best that such a son did not exist. The second son is courteous and respectful, and has given the holy one some succour in a time of inconvenience.”

Jì Chang blinked, and looked around. “I do not see him. If I recall, Chief Hao’s village incurred the great deity’s displeasure when he…”

“Please, say no more. I have been making reparations, but the holy one won’t see me,” Chief Hao winced. “Drought has persisted over my village for three years because of that wastrel’s disrespect!”

Jì Dan sighed quietly

More words were unable to be exchanged, because the screen doors folded open and a maid in white hemmed with red saluted them. “Fengshan Village Chief Jì Chang and heir Jì Dan to see the Grandmaster!”

Solemnly, the father and son came in, a procession of gifts behind them.

Laid on his side atop a _chaise longue_ 1 atop a dais of three steps painted vermilion, Hong Yuexia smiled down at the men who prostrated themselves before his stage. The maid moved to stand next to the stage, frozen in her position.

“Your Fengshan Village has made an agreement with this seat.2 Ten years of normal weather in exchange for yearly tribute, fixed at five pigs, ten chickens, five stones of rice and twenty bales of cloth; failing that, some equivalent thereof should be reached. It has been eight years, with payment for two years deferred. You, the village chief, should have good news this time.”

“G- Great Deity!” the elderly man trembled on his knees. “We have brought good news indeed. Many thanks to the stability of our promise and the wealth it has brought, our Jì Tan has become the top scholar of the Ling kingdom! With his talent so widespread on his illustrious return to his hometown, the King of Ling has granted us bales of un-dyed silk, as well as turmeric, safflower, and indigo flowers. We now offer these treasures to the Great Deity.”

The maid standing beside the couch carried over the offered itemised list for Hong Yuexia to glance at.

“Cloud brocade… this is expensive material,” Hong Yuexia pouted.

“Enough for four years of tribute, Great Deity.” The chief dared to glance up, hiding his gaze as soon as his head had even darted up to Hong Yuexia. “This lowly one has dared to bring my worthless son Dan before your presence due to needing assistance in my dotage.”

“That is true. Chief Jì is old, but where is the Chief’s heir Jì Yikao?”

“My lowly son Yikao leads the village in my absence.” Jì Chang prostrated himself, kowtowing until his head touched the ground.

“Never mind. Fengshan Village has yet to _stint_ on tribute.”

“We would not dare.”

Jì Dan fervently agreed with his father’s refuting, aware now that their village’s benefactor was not to be offended at any cost.

“Now, Young Master Hao...” A frown of displeasure overcame the Grandmaster’s face. “Ah, never mind. If there is nothing else, follow my maid Shahua to collect some paltry rewards and be fed and watered.”

“We father and son thank the Great Deity for your benevolence...” Jì Chang kowtowed again. “Great Deity, the agreement between our Fengshan Village and yourself is beneficial to both parties; there is no reason not to continue it…”

* * *

So visitors came and went in the throne hall, and as the sun began to set and twilight covered the Blue Sea Mulberry Fields, an injured man in light armour rolled onto the carpet leading up to Hong Yuexia’s dais.

“Fate has guided you through time and space to this here and now, in order that this seat may correct some disturbance.” The click of a wooden heel resounded through the throne room as Hong Yuexia slowly paced down from his couch in vague interest. A train of red pulled on the ground behind him.

“… am I… dead…?”

“That will depend.” Hong Yuexia gently looked down.

“Are you…?” Almost energised, the injured soldier sat up and kowtowed without hesitation at Hong Yuexia’s feet. “This junior is Lí Chang, Lí for ‘black’ and Chang for ‘flourishing’. This junior does not know what fortune accumulated in a previous life to have met a cultivator here and now, but this junior must say my regards for saving my life from the battlefield.”

“Battlefield… a soldier. The matters of the mundane world touch on this place,” Hong Yuexia hummed, but nodded.

“May this junior as for your noble surname and honoured name?”

“This seat is the Grandmaster of the JieJue Sect, surnamed Hong for the safflower, named Yuan for ‘fate’, courtesy name bestowed upon myself being Yuexia, being ‘the one who stands under the moon’.” Hong Yuexia lazily introduced himself. “Having founded my cultivation on the way of needle and thread, I control the very threads of fate. You mortals call me the Elder Under the Moon.”

“The Elder… so it is the Moon Elder who has rescued this one. Does the god of matchmaking have a destined one for me that this one has yet to meet?”

“Yes, and no. My loom weaves all the fates of the world, and yours happened to pass here to me.” Hong Yuexia smiled. “You mortals ascribe only the domain of marriage to me, unknowing of the power which fate holds over the ten thousand things of the world, even the fate of love.”

“Fate… if there is a fate, then this junior must impose upon our fateful meeting for a favour from the great deity. Please change someone else’s fate.”

“Interesting...” Hong Yuexia floated as he made a motion as if to take a seat, hovering in mid-air with only one heel on the floor. “I will listen.”

“I beg of you to change the fate of Yan Hong, Yan for ‘dark red’ and Hong for ‘flourishing’, courtesy name Wanxia ‘evening clouds’. He… he is my aide... I… when I lost everything, even the succession fight… he was the only one at my side...”

“...ah.” Hong Yuexia hummed. “You are a prince.”

“Third imperial son of the Great Yang empire.” Lí Chang seemed to sense some reluctance, for he kowtowed once again. “I no longer have anything to bargain, but please save his life. In order to save me from the capital, he… he is still on the battlefields facing enemies on ten sides.”

“So much for a lost subject about to die?”

“I… I did not trust him.” Lí Chang slowly closed his eyes. “Were I given a chance to redo everything, I would be better to him.”

At this, Hong Yuexia looked up to the ceiling of his hall, where thread-festooned eaves shook with the threads that they stretched and shuttles flew between them to weave and tie by magic. One scarlet thread floated down, shining with vermilion light as Lí Chang looked back up and was taken aback.

Another thread drifted down, and tried to tie itself to the first thread. They made a knot, but the knot began to split and loosen, and following that they drifted apart, still within each other’s space before the second thread was abruptly cut by some invisible blade and disappeared.

Hong Yuexia sighed, with the significance of the event but feeling no sorrow. “Yan Hong has died.”

Lí Chang gave a croak.

Hong Yuexia took the thread and coiled it, before splicing one loose end back into the thread to form a closed loop. He then walked around, before lashing the loop around Lí Chang’s left leg and tightening the knot.

“What are you doing?” Lí Chang exclaimed, but Hong Yuexia had already stepped away.

“...Young Master Lí. Were you given a chance to redo everything, I do not know the results.” The smile that Hong Yuexia wore was too sinister for words. “I can give you this chance, in exchange for a payment. However, I cannot guarantee what you will gain or lose – such is the nature of destiny. In exchange, I will collect my payment in the future.”

He smiled down at Lí Chang. “Help me answer a question. How far can one person change the fates which have already happened?”

A wave of his sleeves, and Lí Chang’s shout as he was yanked by his bound left foot through a weave in the fabric of space and time echoed with his egress.

By the side, Shahua gave a slow blink. “Grandmaster, forgive your maid’s question, but… Grandmaster usually collects things like ‘the person most precious to you’ and so on… interfering in these sorts of matters will bring some trouble.”

“Is that so?” Hong Yuexia yawned lazily. “That trouble will come sooner or later, I believe. Now, it is time to go and see Jin- _lang_...”

 

* * *

**1 In Chinese, this type of couch which is upholstered on one end and long enough to support the legs is called a Noble Consort chair (贵妃椅).**

**2 本座 is an archaic Chinese first-person pronoun used by powerful individuals in these types of stories, 座 being a classifier for immovable objects e.g. mountains, buildings etc.**


	9. 第七章： Leading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sex scene, or more accurately the lead-up of one, because I'm terrible like that.

#  第七章： Leading

“...He still haven’t got his memories back. He might never get them back. Why is he here?”

“Because he’s our friend.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! He specifically said to learn from those hypocrites!”

Huang Jin snapped out of his stupor to see Hong Yuan, Hong Yuexia, arguing with a priest in black robes and a simple hair-stick in his hair-bun. At the noise he made, the priest rounded on him.

“Well?” came the demand. “Do you remember me?”

Huang Jin stared at the priest, who looked slightly older due to the frazzled white of his brows and temples. Otherwise, the stockiness of his frame and the swarthiness of his face might have suggested a highwayman instead of a respectable priest of the Way. Something else occurred to him – it seemed as though Huang Jin could regard himself in the priest’s eyes of obsidian.

“...Shuijing. ‘Water mirror’, Shuijing.” Huang Jin grew even more certain. “Wu Luan, Wu Shuijing! I thought you were being a State Teacher somewhere?”

“...you remember?”

“Who remembers?” A matchless beauty in green floated in, accompanied by a man in white.

“Zhenggang has come,” Huang Jin identified himself.

“...” Qing Cangcui blinked slowly. “How do you write your courtesy name?”

“‘Righteous Principle’!”

“...” Qing Cangcui turned to Hong Yuexia. “How do you always do _that_?”

“I’m an Immortal,” was the cheeky answer. “Try to go against fate, and nature would make playthings of men. Your Soup of Forgetfulness needs some more work.”

“So you knew that his memory would come back...” Qing Cangcui sighed. “Hold the bet first.”

“Even if I die, I will collect that debt from you.”

“That’s what _you_ say.”

Huang Jin did not have much of an impression of Wu Shuijing. This was because, unlike other rogue cultivators who were following the Way, Wu Shuijing’s chosen path involved educating the bureaucracy of entire kingdoms – the ‘bright mirror hanging high’ that so many admired yet failed to live up to. The Northern Beauty and the YüFu- _Jun_ were simpler to talk to.

The silence between Hong Yuexia and Huang Jin was more eloquent than mere words – it was only a matter of time and decency.

* * *

Finally, the conversation had lasted long enough to claim a headache and return to resting in a soft bed.

A muffled thump signalled the bed dipping.

“Is that you, Hong Yuan?” Huang Jin murmured.

“Now, you remember me?”

“You did deliver me to be educated like a scholar… for that, I thank you.” Huang Jin sighed. “You know that, in order for you to achieve ‘thousands of purples and reds’, education in the ways of the scholars is necessary. Of the Five Stars, three of us were artisans – Cangcui was a medical woman, you were a tailor, and I was a gardener. Shuijing would never have converted to the Way and left home if not for that official he so admired, who died a wronged death. Chenglong mimicked the clients of his family’s past businesses, but the children of merchants have the self-pity which pollutes what you need.”

“Did you have to die for it?” the voice of Hong Yuexia cracked. “What social classes, what of the three hundred and sixty trades of the world… we’re fine like this.”

“I have realised in hindsight…” Huang Jin sighed. “Yuexia, I need an honest answer to this question: if you can do anything, are you able to fail?”

Hong Yuexia opened his mouth.

He closed his mouth.

“I see,” Huang Jin sighed.

As Hong Yuexia opened his mouth once again, the nearby candelabra began to flare, each flame growing to the length of one _zhang_ (=3.5 metres) and more. As his brow furrowed, the space around him seem to slide and undo itself like threads loosening from a fabric. The loose ends of red threads began to fray where Hong Yuexia existed in all directions.

Huang Jin grabbed the figure in red. Their mouths crashed. A tongue roughly pushed past two ivory walls to invade the god’s mouth. The red sleeves of Hong Yuexia’s scarlet robes flicked themselves, batting into Huang Jin’s face.

Pliant to the will of another, the compelling Moon Elder fell to the gravitas of the earth. The tears in the world re-knitted itself together as the one proclaimed as the only Immortal of the current generation shook his head, and his robes began to writhe like a living being.

“Jin-lang...take these thoughts...out of my head!”

“The only limits to your power are mental.” Huang Jin said with the certainty of returned memory, pulling at the tightly knotted belt. The binding was torn apart by his brute strength.

“No!” Hong Yuexia exclaimed. “Wufeng is my masterpiece! Zhenggang...”

“The Red Threads of Fate bind into a specific form for a purpose. Once that purpose is fulfilled, then another part of life has passed. Clothes are hence signs of the passage of time – the means to mark milestones of events long gone.” Huang Jin, now Huang Zhenggang, retorted. “You would weave a specific weakness into every work – even your own masterpiece is not exempt from this!”

The Grandmaster of the JieJue Sect looked away. “...Wufeng is my wedding dress.”

“...not even the bridegroom is allowed to strip you of it?”

Hong Yuexia turned away. His attempt at throwing a temper tantrum failed when the outer robe began to slide off. “Ah!”

“All your thoughts come from the fact that you are cocooned in the embodiment of your own power,” Huang Jin rumbled. “If you want me to remove those thoughts, I will strip you here and now of that power, and cast you down from your place up high.”

Pushed back as the outer robe was taken off, the Moon Elder panted. “I always thought you were as steady as the mountains, how do you say such words lightly- I’ll strip.” Hong Yuexia insisted as Huang Jin made to snap another binding. “You might be playing the bridegroom here, but I’m the one still fixing up Wufeng later!”

Huang Jin got up and sat on the only bed in the room then. His dark eyes met Hong Yuexia’s luminous jadeite eyes, as the latter steadily undid all the belts and frogging, easily disrobing all the layers of the Clothes of the Heavens in a single sweep of his arms.

The willowy figure was illuminated against the light streaming from the room’s panelled doors. “...is this enough?”

“...come here.” Came a rasp.

Clad in only a red _dudou_ and shorts, Hong Yuexia straddled Huang Jin, dipping his head low to began mouthing at the knot of the other’s robes, before he gave a shout as he was tipped back on the bed. The white linen of his shorts were torn off of him.

Slowly, the butterfly knot clasping the _dudou_ shut was pulled, drawing out the tension between them.

“Once I take this off, you will have neither cloth nor adornment to hide your body now,” Huang Zhenggang rumbled, his voice low in his throat. “Not a single line. You like that?” Huang Zhenggang observed at the gasp. “Does anyone else see you, the Grandmaster, like this?”

“...I have towels...”

“No, then.”

A series of tongue-clicks echoed with each slap of a rough hand on a pale lumbar curve, and a cry for each slap growing higher in pitch.

“The heavens and the earth exist side-by-side, up and down. You are the world to me, but I must be the support that you turn to, the road under your feet.” Huang Zhenggang spoke these words earnestly.

“I can fly.”

“And then you get lost.”

“Can’t- deny that.” The answer came as a grunt. “We were all lost, you know, when you were with those rotten woods...”

“And you were so lost that you started to drink without restraint, strip before complete strangers, and whisper sweet nothings to them?” The slap this time was much harder.

“I knew it was you! You volcano, how long were you bottling up all these things to account with me?!” Hong Yuexia complained, but the notes of affection in his voice were endorsed as he ground his hips down to Huang Zhenggang’s lower body. “Are you erupting now?”

“Good idea. If the earth erupts, it is the job of the heavens to contain the emissions within itself.”

“I worry for the proper doctrines for you, hahaha… DaiYuePiXing- _Zun_ , the unyielding man for whom the Mother Earth makes way for, is actually-”

“You’re still talking?” Huang Zhenggang growled.

“Then put something in my mouth-” Hong Yuexia bit down on cloth. He frowned, before he spat it out in his hand. “You- Huang Zhenggang, this is my belt! Woven from the Red Threads of Fate!”

“Yuexia. In your mouth, or over your hands. Choose.”

“...”


	10. 第八章：Grouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While sober, we shared our happiness; now drunk, we go our separate ways.
> 
> A shared past.

#  第八章：Grouping

Ever since recovering his memories, Huang Zhenggang could confirm the suspicions that he had had since his time as Huang Jin and their second first meeting: Hong Yuexia was obedient.

Hong Yuexia was supposed to be a god incarnate, alluring and mighty – the lone moon in the sky who outshone all the stars. Yet, Huang Zhenggang was the earth to him, the planet around which the Moon gravitated, the earth to contain the fire which threatened to burn out an Immortal who had no idea how he had become one and was unprepared for the consequences. Whether out of laziness or genuine lack of knowledge, Hong Yuexia still deferred everything to Huang Zhenggang, which was why Huang Zhenggang was the one who ended up hosting Little Mei.

“Little Mei.”

“I have a surname now, Brother Huang,” a radiant woman smiled. “Lan, Lan Mei. I’m marrying Lan An.”

“I see.”

“Where is Brother?”

“He is sleeping.” Huang Zhenggang saw her face twitch. “He just concluded his own wedding night.”

“Your spring night-”

“-will continue once you tell me what you want, and I send you off.” Were it anyone else, perhaps Huang Zhenggang would observe manners, but Lan Mei was like family to them.

The Five Stars, and the prospective Mrs Lan had grown up in the Luoyang entertainment scene, orphans who knew each other as part of the Yihong Court. The boy whose steady hands won him a tailor’s apprenticeship in his youth made a pair with the illegitimate son of a courtesan apprenticed to a gardener. The pair of boys protected a fellow orphan whose good looks gave her the most promise.

The rest of the Five Stars came later in this scene: the medical woman peddling abortifacients and beauty products, the starving artist whose talent was overlooked by the lack of patrons, and the highway robber turned constable to follow his magistrate.

The magistrate’s death became the catalyst for Wu Luan to change his name and pursue the Way. All of them left Yihong Court, following Wu Shuijing into the cultivation world sooner or later for their own reasons, each on their individual paths and the options it offered. None of them, least of all Hong Yuexia himself, had expected that even one out of the six would reach Apotheosis – it was the far-off dream that did not seem to come for noble cultivators with the time and resources to invest in fully cultivating in the vital energies of the world, much less for poor artisans and mean people like themselves.

When one attains the Way, his chickens and dogs follow him up to the heavens. Following this saying, Hong Yuexia gained a following overnight. The JieJue Sect – six bloodlines and several more disciples seeking to apprentice themselves – sprouted up overnight. The Five Stars gained an even greater reputation.

The last one of them, the orphan girl who had walked out of the Mound of Disordered Graves to be sold into a brothel, who had then escaped with Hong Yuexia and become his sworn sister, was now the most eligible cultivator lady under the heavens – the Beautiful Disaster, whose supernatural charm had allowed her to command men to their deaths willingly.

“Lan An is a musician and studied cultivation at a monastery,” Lan Mei chattered. “He is very good to me, I love him. I will stay with him for a lifetime. I want Brother to make my wedding dress.”

“...have you finished?”

“Eh? Yes.”

“Then go.”

“...”

Both of them burst out in laughter.

“He told you… to say that, right?” Mei struggled to contain herself.

Huang Zhenggang slowly nodded.

“You would have succeeded if not for laughing at the end,” Mei sighed. “Now let us find our brother.”

* * *

As expected, Hong Yuexia was not in SongBai city. When pressured, Wu Shuijing harrumphed. “He’s in his workshop. That crazy guy made me set up a mirror door to it from here – no security, if you ask me...”

Being faced with the mirror door in question, which connected places separated by distances in a single step, Huang Zhenggang has to ask himself why had it taken so long for their side to begin their bid for hegemony. Time, place, and social factors – they were not lacking in any of them.

The grand space that the two visitors came upon was cavernous – a high ceiling, gears and wheels hanging from the ceiling. Rotating by some unseen force, the wheels spooled in yarns of red, the threads which were then diverted to the six directions – the four cardinals, up, and down. The downstream thread was spooled into a roll of spools, which then dropped down into a grand loom as warp yarns.

With a shuttle in hand around which red thread was wound, Hong Yuexia tossed the shuttle. It flew, leaving behind a trail of scarlet which was then beaten into place with the loom beater as the shed opened and closed and the warp yarns played out.

The red textile that was derived rolled into itself, its ends knotting together into the ends of a belt. Holding onto one end, Xingwang sheared the cloth off of its loom, and Hong Yuexia let go.

In a serpentine motion, the belt flew towards a clothes-stand. It worked itself through belt-loops and then made a gaudy butterfly knot, and the red robes shuddered under its own will.

The scissors remained in hand. “Little Sister.”

“Brother… your workspace has… grown.”

“The mulberry fields turn into the blue seas, and the seas into mulberry fields. The transformations of the world awaits no one – not even a god.” Xingwang was dropped back into a holster at his belt as he turned to smile at them. “I’m not weaving the Red Thread of Fate into your wedding dress.”

“I’m not asking you to,” came the retort. “I’m marrying Lan An. My surname is now Lan.”

“Then congratulations. Should I also say… that two fortunate events have arrived?”1

Lan Mei’s hand went to her midriff immediately. “Brother has good eyes.”

“The Red Threads are not limited to marriage fates. It can even be said that the Threads are dyed in the blood of people.”

“You never said,” Huang Zhenggang accused Lan Mei.

“I have my own reasons!”

“I have my own two happy events,” Hong Yuexia bent down, picking up a crate spanning his slender arms. Within the crate was nested a cocoon of red.

“...” Lan Mei blinked slowly. “You’ve breeding bigger silkworms?”

“I was inspired by the metamorphosis of a silkworm into a silk-moth,” Hong Yuexia elaborated. “And then I began to think about how all things came to be – and how organisms propagate. It occurred to me that, barring extensive changes to myself, I would never see a child of my blood. The womb has to come from somewhere, after all.”

Huang Zhenggang and Lan Mei immediately took a step back.

“I had a prototype cocoon already made, and the idea of imbuing an object containing the Red Threads with life in Wufeng.” A click of the tongue resounded. “Mixing human material seemed like the next obvious step.”

“And the consequences?”

“...ah,” said Hong Yuexia, the smile fading from his face. “I forgot.”

“...” Deep breathing could be heard.

A slap resounded as Lan Mei set her hand on Huang Zhenggang’s shoulder. “...good luck.”

* * *

Having been forced away from his workshop, Hong Yuexia was in the grand throne hall again. Eight other people were in the throne hall with him – Shahua, the grounds-keeper Cang Hai, and six more people.

“...swearing bloodlines to anyone’s service is a drastic move,” the JieJue Grandmaster scowled. “This seat may leave tomorrow, without attachments to the mundanity of the world. All six of you are the closest to personal succeeding disciples in the JieJue Sect so far.”

“Grandmaster has power far beyond what most cultivators would ever attain,” one of them, a young man, spoke with fervour that would have roused uneasiness. “The six of us have already become the Six Harmonies of the JieJue Sect. It only makes sense to tie the futures of our bloodlines to serving the Grandmaster and his successor.”

“Successor… it will not be from any of you.”

“Then, Grandmaster already has someone in mind?”

“This…”

Hong Yuexia pondered, before he announced: “The heavens have decreed for me to mix my essence with another’s, and to combine the resulting mixture within a cocoon of the Red Threads of Fate. The mixture will metamorphose, and the blessed child which will emerge will have the surname of Hong, and the ability to produce the Red Threads of Fate.”

He thought a bit longer. “The theme of the world has always been in balance – _yin_ and _yang_. Since I am _yang_ , this child will be _yin_. The girl, my successor, will follow in my footsteps as matchmaker of all under the heavens, and for that I give her the name of Hongniang. 2”

Someone else spoke then. “What if all of this does not come to pass?”

“Zhu, do not talk!” the first man warned, but it was too late.

“What do you mean?”

The question posed by Hong Yuexia was greeted with silence. The one who has questioned prostrated himself.

“Grandmaster, I mean no offence, but… man proposes but the heavens disposes3. What if… you are wrong?”

The JieJue Grandmaster thought. “...if I am wrong, then you have all chosen the wrong master to apprentice under. You are… Wu, for ‘military’, bequeathed the surname Zhu, yes?”

“The lowly one Zhu Wu pays his respects to the Grandmaster.”

“You apprenticed yourself, spent years under my tutelage, even discarded your own surname to one of my choosing…” Hong Yuexia frowned. “Was it not because you were certain that, by following this path that I have trod on to the end, that you would be able to ascend?”

Zhu Wu crouched further, his head already on the ground.

The sigh that echoed through the hall was only a prelude to the lamentation:

  __  
Amidst flowers with a pot of wine,  
I drink alone, companion-less.

_Raising a cup, I invite the bright moon  
To add my shadow, and we become three._

_But the moon does not drink,  
And the shadow simply follows me._

_Moon and shadow are but fleeting partners,  
Yet one must find joy in life._

_As I sing, the moon lingers;  
I dance, and the shadow stumbles after._

_While sober, we shared our happiness;  
Now drunk, we go our separate ways._

_Forever bound, roaming without a care,_  
We will meet again beyond the Milky Way.  
4

* * *

**1  双喜临门: Chinese idiom for two simultaneous happy events in a family.**

**2  红娘 – literally ‘red girl’; also another word for ‘matchmaker’. Its origins lie in the Yuan dynasty play _The Story of the Western Wing_ , where a maid named Hongniang helps to bring together the protagonists in a happy ending.**

**3  人算不如天算**

**4 This is the 1915 Ezra Pound translation of Li Bai’s ‘Drinking Alone with the Moon’  《月下独酌》, first stanza. The stanza’s original form is here:**

** 花间一壶酒，独酌无相亲。 **

** 举杯邀明月，对影成三人。 **

** 月既不解饮，影徒随我身。 **

** 暂伴月将影，行乐须及春。 **

** 我歌月徘徊，我舞影零乱。 **

** 醒时同交欢，醉后各分散。 **

** 永结无情游，相期邈云汉。 **


	11. 第九章：Small Accumulating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will die soon. And then, I will return.”

#  第九章：Small Accumulating

Having now won unquestioning obedience, Hong Yuexia could settle the sect’s internal businesses and focus on other personal projects – such as the outlining of more clothings. The throne room had thus turned into a study when the grounds-keeper Cang Hai entered the room after announcing himself with a loud footstep.

“Master. Master Lan and Master Wen have come.”

“Lead them here.”

“Grandmaster… your designs...”

“These inventions are to be made public anyway. The Qiankun bag had to come out somehow.” This last sentence was made with a sneer. “I can afford to lose a monopoly on the Qiankun bag, as well as the concept of sewing spells into clothings. There are still some things that they cannot catch up to me on. Besides… it was only a matter of time.”

“That is true.” Cang Hai bowed deeply. “I will attend to this matter at once.”

“Housekeeper Cang.”

Footsteps stopped immediately, and he turned back immediately.

“I will be facing a calamity soon. My bones will be changed, and my body discarded. The soul is, however, eternal.”

“If that is the case, I will await the Grandmaster’s return, as is the fate I pledged for the Cang bloodline.”

A sigh. When Hong Yuexia next spoke, his voice rang with the authority of one who had already known the plans of the heavens and was now acting them out. “Know that those of your bloodline who stand fast here will always have the strength and life of their prime.”

“!!!” Cang Hai fell to his knees in worship. “...no matter how the mulberry fields transform into the blue seas, the Cang family will maintain this place for our master! Many thanks for this great blessing!”

“Go on then.”

“Yes!”

On a purely rational basis, Hong Yuexia found his prospective sworn brother-in-law Lan An very handsome. Despite being a former monk, the growing hair was neatly tied back, and a ribbon of swirling clouds were tied around his forehead.

Both men returned the salute. “Paying our respects to the JieJue Grandmaster.”

“Welcome to my humble abode. I see you enjoy my gift, Young Master Lan. Young Master Wen,” Hong Yuexia frowned at the other man who came with Lan An – Wen Mao of Qishan. Wen Mao was not lacking in looks, but he still fell short of Lan An’s heroic air and subtle elegance. “We’ve met,” he finally said.

“Indeed.” Wen Mao looked around openly. “It is an honour to enter the Grandmaster’s personal study.”

“Study? Hardly. I think better when I can feel and touch the item to be made.” A pinch and pull motion in this air drew a red line across the very air.

“I came to offer my gratitude,” Lan An said in the face of such flagrant use of power. His dignity was a contrast to Wen Mao, who was openly staring. “Our wedding will be held soon, and I will send an invitation.”

“I look forward to it.” Hong Yuexia smirked. “I have no idea what Young Master Wen is doing here, though...”

“I admire the Grandmaster. My visit this time has fewer ulterior motives than to behold Grandmaster’s power.”

“Such a sweet mouth.” Hong Yuexia smirked wider. “Are you sure that bowing to power is enough?”

“...”

Wen Mao prostrated himself with bad grace. Hong Yuexia knew this, and knew that here, and now, would be the two men who would kill him.

* * *

Waiting for the cocoon to hatch was even worse. Even as he dutifully read aloud to it, and spoke to it, and the thing had been incubating for a patient few years in time with the advance of their forces up north, Hong Yuexia could not help but wonder about the nature of life and time, and the nature of intelligent life. It could be said that all life was divine – thus, what about life granted by his own hands?

On the day that the child emerged, Song Qi escaped.

It had been expected by nobody else but himself – Song Qi had to live to return to the failing Alliance. There were certain steps which necessitated the grand stage of discarding his mortal body. There was also only so much attention that an ultimately mortal being could gain from an immortal.

The cocoon split open, its fibres being unravelled under their own power and knitting themselves into yarns and threads. Already a head could be seen – a perfect melon-seed face with a widow’s peak, ink-black hair, phoenix eyes closed, and jadeite skin.

Those same eyes opened as the child burst forth from the cocoon into the world, those eyes…

“What is your name?”

“Hongniang pays her respects to Master.”

“I have some clothes-”

The cocoon began to knit itself around her to form a _dudou,_ followed by an under-robe, and then an outer robe. The whole ensemble shifted colours from the deep red of fate to a pastel pink. The perfect maiden made a salute, the gesture almost stiff like a statue attempting fine movements. “Many thanks to Master.”

“...how much do you know?”

“As the Holy Maiden meant to succeed Master’s grand work, Hongniang will maintain the JieJue Sect’s power. Hongniang knows how to make the Red Threads of Fate, and Hongniang knows what meagre means of fighting that Master has passed to Hongniang. The rest may be explicated from there.”

“I will examine your learning ability in the days to come.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“...” Hong Yuexia beheld her, and sighed. “I am not a good father, but I will give you this name which is the secret between you and I. The rest of the world may call you Hongniang, but you, and I, know that you will be much more than that. I am hoping that life will take you on a good journey.”

“Understood.”

“Nichang.” The pronouncement was like a sigh. “That will be your name: ‘raiment of rainbow’. I hope your life will have as many colours as the rainbow, in the future where I cannot follow.”

* * *

“I thought you couldn’t get as creepy as me, Chief, and then you bring up this girl.” Qing Cangcui pouted from her perch on the couch. She was not alone; Su Lí’s arms were around her midriff. “Why did you bring Hongniang to the date?”

“Hongniang needs to talk to others too.” Hong Yuexia placed a kiss on his support. Huang Zhenggang snorted, moving his lap on which Hong Yuexia was perched on up for another peck.

“What I cannot believe, is the fact that this is a meeting for official business and you’re still publicly displaying your affections. Is this a contest?!” Wu Shuijing was hopping mad, a direct contrast to both his name and the vacant smile from Hongniang. “Hong Yuexia! Qing Cangcui! Sit properly!”

His temples were still throbbing when all five of them could get back to official business. “Well, Yuexia’s calamity comes at a terrible time. The CangSong and CuiBai sects are finished, but in their place are the growing clans. It’s like our enemies just split themselves into different families. We can fight them, but… time is not on our side. In order to fulfil the conditions for Yuexia...”

“Shuijing...” Hong Yuexia sighed, before he started to elaborate: “My calamity has already started. My power as infinite possibilities; however, those possibilities include all the possibilities of success, as well as the possibilities of failure. Whether I succeed or fail at anything has a half-half chance, no matter what. No matter how much experience I built up, no matter how great a defeat I suffered... it has no bearing on what would happen the next time.”

The great cultivator shook his head. “I no longer know which way to work in, or which way to turn. Zhenggang, I don’t know what to do.”

“...you tried.”

The simple reply drew a tear.

Huang Zhenggang swallowed. “...you have a plan that I do not think I will like.”

“As long as I am remembered in some form, I will not fade. In order to be remembered, I need all of you to abandon my physical shell to safeguard this memory.” The winning smile on his face was enough to make hairs stand on end.

“I will die soon. And then, I will return.”


	12. Epilogue 闭幕：Continuing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue: Nobody would remain at the top forever...
> 
> Also: Standalone sequel at [Under the Moon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13159407/chapters/30096681) now up!
> 
> And: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! FIRST CHAPTER OF 2018!

#  闭幕：Continuing

It was always an interesting conundrum if one knew that they were about to die, and yet dying would confer much bigger privileges than merely long life. This was the kind of thing that Hong Yuexia found himself pondering when facing an army of cultivators. Glowing swords, deity-binding nets, chains to restrict spiritual power…

“Wen Mao, Lan An...” Hong Yuexia sighed. “Using my own inventions against me...”

A sword was pointed at him, but the blade wavered. “All is far in war.”

“Yes… all is fair in war…”

“Elder.”

Lan An placidly played a suppressing tune on his _guqin_. No one else besides an ashen-faced Lan Mei dared to come near the Lan clan of Gusu, as Lan An’s newly established clan had claimed itself to be.

“Lan An...” Hong Yuexia gave a bitter chuckle. “Do you have your answer now?”

“...yes.”

“I curse your bloodline,” his eyes gleamed, polished like jade. “Whenever and wherever a villain rises to challenge the cultivation world and its norms, I swear that your descendants will always fall in love with that evil. I swear that they will always fail the obstacle of love. No matter how much they cultivate, love is the strongest.”

“Thank you very much.”

“…?” His anger gone, Hong Yuexia stared at this monk.

“If that love is returned, then it shall be worth it.”

Beside him, Lan Mei choked. “I...”

“Sister… you chose wisely.” Hong Yuexia’s face twisted, before he turned away from the pair and sneered. “All of you… every single one of you… do you think I will leave this world completely? No; my memory and my soul will always be here… I love this world too much. Hahahahahaha…I curse you all to quake in fear and terror, for I will settle this score when I return! Hahahaha, hahahaha...”

The sword descended.

Even if he was capable of turning the world upside down, it was finally his turn to be toppled. The JieJue Sect was scattered, and with it the memory of Hong Yuexia remained alive, but barely. The legend of the Moon Elder could not be removed any more – yet, the being himself was gone.

Nobody would remain at the top forever...

**Author's Note:**

>  **Dramatis Personae:**  
>  Unorthodox side – WuXing Alliance  
> \- Huang Jin, (黄金, | ‘yellow’‘gold/metal)’) – main character. Past lover of Hong Yuexia, soon-to-be future lover again.  
> \- Hong Yuan, courtesy name of Yuexia (红缘, 字月下 | ‘red’‘fate’, courtesy name ‘under the moon’) – Founder and Leader of the JieJue Sect, also called the JieJue Grandmaster (结绝教主). Head of the WuXing Alliance. The only cultivator so far who has reached Apotheosis, and thus controls the Red String of Fate.  
> \- Qing Wan, courtesy name of Cangcui (青婉， 字苍翠 | ‘green’‘amiable’, courtesy name ‘dark blue; blue; green’ ‘bluish-green; green jade’, ‘verdant/dark green (vegetation)’ when read together) – Sect leader of the CangMang sect, one of the Five Stars of the WuXing. Wife of Su Li.  
> \- Su Li, courtesy name of Chenglong (素鲤，字乘龙 | ‘white/plain’‘carp’, courtesy name ‘to ride the dragon’) – Sect leader of the BaiYi Sect, one of the Five Stars of the WuXing. Husband of Qing Cangcui. (Undercover) friend of Huang Jin.
> 
> Orthodox side – Great Alliance  
> \- Song Rong, courtesy name of Dongyu (松茸, 字东隅 | ‘pine’ ‘fluffy’; also ‘matsutake mushroom’, courtesy name ‘east’‘side’/’sunrise’) – Leader of the CangSong Sect, also Leader of the Great Orthodox Alliance. Sworn brother to Bai Lin.  
> – Song Qi (松绮 | ‘pine’ ‘beautiful’) – Eldest formal daughter of Song Rong, successor of the CangSong Sect. Wearer of the Sect’s special Mulberry Robe (柘袍), which is capable of giving the wearer superhuman powers at the cost of devouring the wearer.  
> – Song Tong (松桐 | ‘pine’‘paulownia’) – eldest formal son of Song Rong.  
> \- Bai Lin, courtesy name of Sangyu (柏林, 字桑榆 | ‘cypress’‘forest’, courtesy name ‘mulberry’‘elm’/‘sunset’ when read together) – Leader of the CuiBai Sect. Sworn brother to Song Rong.  
> – Bai Cheng (柏橙 | ‘cypress’‘orange’) – Son of Bai Lin, successor of the CuiBai Sect.


End file.
